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The Autumn passed away, and Winter, cold, bleak, and cheerless, settled over the land. The bright and many-colored leaves that had flashed their myriad beauties in the full glare of the sunlight, had fallen from the trees, leaving their trunks, gnarled and bare, to the mercy of the sweeping winds.
She looked around the room and back at me. "Turn out the lamps," she said. "This light is ghastly." There was little more color in her face than mine. Even the sunlight seemed cold and cheerless. She came a little nearer to me. "He was conscious at the end?" "Yes!" I answered. Her breath seemed to be coming a little faster. Her eyes were full of eager questioning. "You were with him?" "Yes!"
Unluckily, their beds were so thickly bestrewn with rock that neither of them was navigable for any considerable part of its long course through the ill-starred province. The inhabitants were as cheerless as the land on which they lived. They had none of the fiery energy, the eloquence, the mobility of the people of the south.
Indeed, that mace of the high-souled son of Kunti, who was slaying all around, looked fiercely resplendent like the bludgeon of the Destroyer himself at the time of the universal dissolution. And beholding him thus routing that large army repeatedly and advancing like Death's self, all the warriors became cheerless.
He told me, that as he had often read in my blushes the sympathy which my too severe virtue made me conceal, he would now wrest me from my cheerless widowhood; and having nothing in reality to reproach myself with, compel me to be happy.
It seemed to her as if she were forsaken both of earth and heaven. How she got home, she hardly knew, but when she entered that cheerless place she found her poor sick child, for whom she had no money to buy medicine, burning with fever, and crying bitterly.
The dreadful spring was past; the horrible, dull, anxious summer was gone; the cruel, chilly autumn went by; the cold, dead, heartless winter dragged through; another spring came, cheerless, hopeless, helpless, like the last. "Shaun," said Mrs. O'Brien, "do you know when it was that Kathleen went away?" "Could I ever forget?" said John. "When was it?" "It was May Eve." "And what is to-day, John?"
I had heard much of this "Venice of the North," but the physical atmosphere was as chilly and unfriendly as the mental one. The recollection stamped on my memory is of a grey, cheerless town where it rained hard almost the whole time, and a bitter wind blowing over the quays which moaned and sobbed like a lost banshee.
The lamps of the Great Northern Terminus at King's Cross had not long been lighted, when a cab deposited a young lady and her luggage at the departure platform. It was an October twilight, cold and gray, and the place had a cheerless and dismal aspect to that solitary young traveller, to whom English life and an English atmosphere were somewhat strange.
Marcus had raised himself to look over the front of his chariot a movement which excited the dog, who began to whine, and then watched his master eagerly as if to see what he would do next. "It looks as if we are going to make a fresh start," thought Marcus; "and a good thing too, for it is chilly and cheerless; but we can't get away from here without fighting."
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