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O'er girlhood's yielding barricade Floats the great Leveller's crimson fold! Come to my arms! love heeds not years No frost the bud of passion knows. Ha! what is this my frenzy hears? A voice behind me uttered, Rose! Sweet was her smile, but not for me; Alas, when woman looks TOO kind, Just turn your foolish head and see, Some youth is walking close behind!
A GLANCE a thought a blow It stings him to the core. A question will it lay him low? Or will time heal it o'er? He kindles at the name He sits and thinks apart; Time blows and blows it to a flame, Burning within his heart. He loves it though it burns, And nurses it with care; He feels the blissful pain by turns With hope, and with despair.
It was Edward Churchill's mellow voice, and he sang a serenade of Mrs. Norton's, in English: Soft o'er the fountain, Lingering, shines the southern moon; Far o'er the mountain Breaks the day, too soon. In thy dark eyes' splendor, Where the warm light loves to dwell, Weary looks, yet tender, Speak their fond farewell. Nita, Juanita, ask thy soul if we should part!
It is a very pretty one," observed the poet with charming candor; and, taking a long breath, he tuned his little lyre afresh: Sweet, sweet days are passing O'er my happy home. Passing on swift wings through the valley of life. Cold are the days when winter comes again.
"`She's a ship that's as tight to my fancy As ever sailed o'er the salt seas. "I think she will be ready for sea in a couple of months. By that time I will be ready to take command, if you choose to trust her to me." "Trust her to you, Bax! Do you think we may trust our new vessel to him, Mr Crumps?" inquired Guy, with a smile.
The horse being tall And the Alps very high, His rider did fall And Hannibal the great lost an eye. Ruth when he fell at the battle of Aughrim, and by Sarsfield at the siege of Limerick. He was with king James who sailed To the Irish shore, But at last he got lame, When the Boyne's bloody battle was o'er.
If 't were mine, I'd have a cape cut i' three points, one to tie on each shoulder, and one to dip down handsome behind. But let yo' an' me go to Monkshaven church o' Sunday, and see Measter Fishburn's daughters, as has their things made i' York, and notice a bit how they're made. We needn't do it i' church, but just scan 'em o'er i' t' churchyard, and there'll be no harm done.
Geer's knitting-needles only served to measure, without disturbing the silence, and, lastly, that they had been husband and wife for thirty years, you will not cease to wonder that Mr. Geer "was glorious, O'er all the ills of life victorious." To most men, an interruption at such a time would have been particularly annoying; but when Mrs. Geer spoke in that way, Mr.
* Her voice is hovering o'er my soul it lingers, O'ershadowing it with soft and thrilling wings; The blood and life within those snowy fingers Teach witchcraft to the instrumental strings. My brain is wild, my breath comes quick. The blood is listening in my frame; And thronging shadows, fast and thick, Fall on my overflowing eyes.
"I think the rôle of widow might interest me for a little time, so I'll take myself and my 'delicate constitution' down to your promising haven of rest. I'll 'view the landscape o'er, and the prospect of an opportunity for a little sharp practice will make my banishment more endurable; of course, my resignation will increase as the situation becomes more interesting."
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