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Then by water, Creed and I, to Salisbury Court and there saw "Love's Quarrell" acted the first time, but I do not like the design or words. So calling at my father's, where they and my wife well, and so home and to bed. Then about 11 o'clock out of doors towards Westminster and put in at Paul's, where I saw our minister, Mr. Mills, preaching before my Lord Mayor.
Then the woman saw her lover, For one instant saw his face, Down the precipice slow sinking, Looking up at her, and sending Through the shimmering, sunny space Look of love and subtle triumph, As he plucked the tiny blossom In its airy, dizzy place, Plucked it, smiling, as if danger Were not danger to the hand Of true lover in love's land.
Was not Spain, that scented land of warmth and colour, of cruelty and blood, of throbbing lutes under lattices ajar, of mitred sinners doing public penance, that land where lust and piety went hand in hand, where passion and penitence lay down together was not Spain the land of love's most fruitful growth? And was not a Spaniard the very hierophant of love?
And if chance to thine eyes shall bring this verse, With some sad sighs honor my absent Herse; And kiss this paper for thy love's dear sake Who with salt tears this last farewell did take. In spite of the fits of depression evident in most of the quotations thus far given, there were many alleviations, as life settled into more tolerable conditions, and one chief one was now very near.
The tiny queen of fairy-land, Who knows thy speed, hath sent thee far, To bring, or ere the night-watch stand, Rich essence for her shadowy car: Perchance her acorn-cups to fill With nectar from the Indian rose, Or gather, near some haunted rill, May-dews, that lull to sleep Love's woes: Or, o'er the mountains, bade thee fly, To tell her fairy love to speed, When ev'ning steals upon the sky, To dance along the twilight mead.
From the beginning he did not close his eyes to a possibility which might become a fact. Six months earlier he would honestly have denied that any woman could linger so tenaciously in his mind, a lovely vision to gladden and disturb him in love's paradoxical way.
Every hard task achieved for love's sake rendered her in thought more worthy of him whom she made the ideal man.
No woman can ever endure the thought that she is disliked or despised by the relatives of the man she loves. And poor Elsie, against her own will, had fallen in love with Arnold Wayne. Against her own will! And Elsie had always fancied that her will was so strong. For the first time in her life she was beginning to feel that terrible self-distrust which is love's cruel companion.
The Comedy of Errors in 1589, Love's Labour's Lost in 1589, Two Gentlemen of Verona in 1589 or 1590, and so forth," and then asks, "with this catalogue of dramatic work on hand . . . was it possible that he could have taken a leading part in the management and conduct of two theatres, and if Mr.
As I read the proofs of the last of these volumes, wherein is told the story of Brann's death, my cup of the joy of love's labor is embittered with the gall of an impotent, futile rage against the Sower that flings with mocking hand the seed of genius and recks not where it falls.
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