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"Like a poet hidden In the light of thought, Singing hymns unbidden, Till the world is wrought In sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not: "Like a high-born maiden In a palace tower, Soothing her love-laden Soul a secret hour With music sweet as love, which overflows her bower. . . . . . . . "Teach us, sprite or bird, What sweet thoughts are thine; I have never heard Praise of love or wine That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine. . . . . . . . "We look before and after, And pine for what is not: Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; The sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.

What a lifelike portrait Chopin drew in this "beautiful, deep-toned, love-laden cantilena"! For was it not the incomparable Delphine who was destined to "soothe the bitterness of sorrow" during his final hours on earth? But while hers was a soul strung with chords that vibrated to the slightest breath of sorrow, she could be vivacious as well.

Something in its simplicitude and the quiet, coming after the glitter and the noise of the ball-room, called up the remembrance of Herondale, and the quiet, love-laden hours he had spent there with Ida. The thought went through him with a sharp pain, and he thrust it away from him as one thrusts away a threatening weakness.

Come to my aid, Muses love-laden, lyrical: Come to my aid, Comic, Tragic, Satirical. Come and breathe into me Strains such as swept from Keats' heaven-strung lyre, Strains such as Shelley's, which never can tire. Come then, and sing to me, Sing me an ode such as Byron would sing, Passionate, love-stirring, quick to begin. Why come you not to me?

But it had not been so with her. She had not soared as she should have done, above the love-laden dreams of common maidens. And so the visit to Yoxham was permitted. Then came the great blow, struck as it were by a third hand, and that the hand of an attorney. The Countess Lovel learned through Mr.

From it is born a joy of the heavenly world. A sight, a glimpse of a form a certain form or face; the rays of light entering the eye meet with something keenly sympathetic, and the soul leaps in ecstasy. A touch, a gentle pressure of the hand; the union is complete. What was that voice that reached him a voice love-laden, full to over-flowing from the regions of the past?

While his pretended uncle was making himself at home most unceremoniously, Quennebert remarked that the chevalier at once began to lay siege to his fair hostess, bestowing tender and love-laden glances on her behind that uncle's back. This redoubled his curiosity.

You talk because it is pleasant, not because you have anything to say. You weary of terms that are already love-laden, and you go out into the highways and hedges, and gather up the rough, wild, wilful words, heavy with the hatreds of men, and fill them to the brim with honey-dew.

And this courtship did not differ to any great extent from all others which had taken place from the beginning of time. There were the same timid approaches and responses; the getting acquainted with each other, wherein each lover's eyes glorified every act in the other; the tremulous pressure of hands; the love-laden looks and words; the thrill of inexpressible joy when the two were together.

And horrified as she was, she realized that there must have long existed between William and Matilda a carefully concealed affair of the heart. "It's all right, dear," William again reassured her, with his staid ardor. "It's mighty good to be with you like this, Matilda!" He heaved a love-laden sigh.