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The sun was setting o'er the sea, A beautiful and summer sun; Crimson and bright, as if not night, But rather day had just begun: That lighted sky, that lighted sea, They spoke of Love and Hope to me.

I thought how Love, I thought how Hope, O'er the horizon of my heart Had pour'd their light like yonder sun; Like yon sun, only to depart: Alas! that ever suns should set, Or Hope grow cold, or Love forget!

" no remedy!" exclaimed Henrietta, who had hurried to Ethel on the first intelligence of this new misfortune, "but a direct application to Sir Robert Walpole. I have tried every method to induce Lord Marchmont