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PREFACE. XXIX |
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I have now exhausted not so much my own recollections, as the patience, I fear, of my readers on this subject. We are told of painters calling those last touches of the pencil which they give to some favourite picture the " ultima basia;" and with the same sort of affectionate feeling do I now take leave of the Irish Melodies, — the only work of my pen, as I very sincerely believe, whose fame (thanks to the sweet music in which it is embalmed) may boast a chance of prolonging its existence to a day much beyond our own. |
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