And, oh the bliss
Having said thus much by way of explanation, I now leave thebook to speak for itself, and to testify to its own character.Whether viewed with a charitable eye by the kindly reader, whowill make due allowance for the difficulties attending itsexecution, or received by the critic, who will judge of it onlyby its own merits, with the unfriendly welcome which it veryprobably deserves, I trust that I shall at least be pardoned formaking an attempt, a failure in which does not necessarily implydisgrace, and which, by leading the way, may perhaps become themeans of inducing some abler and more worthy (but not moreearnest) labourer to enter upon the same field, the riches ofwhich will remain unaltered and undiminished in value, evenalthough they may be for the moment tarnished by the hands of theless skilful workman who first endeavours to transplant them to aforeign soil.
'Tis thus my days are pass'd;And all keep tune with me,And move in harmony,
The one is lifeless, thou with life art blest.
When the smooth ground pressing!O, how false are eye and lip,
"My father, my father, and dost thou not see,How the Erl-King his daughters has brought here for me?""My darling, my darling, I see it aright,'Tis the aged grey willows deceiving thy sight."
Fetter'd by a strange, deceitful oath.