This historic book may have numerous typos, missing text or index. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. 1887. Not illustrated. Excerpt: ... TALE X. JULIET; THE WHITE DOVE OF VERONA. "She doth 'each the torches to bur n bright 1 Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear: Beauty too rich for use, for earth too deurl So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows, As yonder 'ady o'er her fellows rhows." Itumto and Ju'iet, It was Lammas-eve. The breath of early August hung hot and sultry upon the scene. Not a leaf or a blossom stirred. The flowers in the garden, the fruit on the orchard-trees, yielded their incense to enrich ita heavy-perfumed volume. The mingled scents of carnations, with their clove aroma; of fragrant jessamine, of delicious orange-blossom; the faint languor of lilies. the matchless luxuriance of roses. the honeyed sweetness of woodbine; together with the fruity opulence of peach, nectarine, and mulberry, the musky smell from fig-tree and vine, and the redolence of the grape-clusters themselves, exhaled a steam of spicery that seemed to add voluptuous weight to the torpid atmosphere, which hung close, oppressive, motionless; laden with odorous vapours. There was a hush, a pause, as of a mighty suspended breath. Within the Verona garden, on the branch of a pomegranate-tree, --deep-nestled amid its profusion of scarlet blossoms.--sat a pair of snow-white doves; their grain-like beaks joined in that close-wrestling kiss of their tribe, nearest allied in its pretty prerogative to the human caress. All seemed preternaturally still. The sk_y looked dense, for all iU glow of azure and golden light. There were masses of sullen clouds. in the horizon, purple, crimson, gorgeous and sluggish, amid copper and emerald-hued back-grounds; bright bars and edges of dazzling splendour, were crossed and interwoven with broad flushes of rose color, that stretched up athwart ...