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She stands with her finger upraised to the sky, And she dries the sad tear-drop in Memory's eye: An emerald green, be that Island for ever, May the dark tides of Time, sweep over it never! Kirton, Lindsey. In Ireland, carding the tithe proctors was occasionally resorted to by the White Boys, and was performed in the following manner:
He then begged for a little water; "I'll give you water," said he, and once more plunging the weapon in his body, left him for dead! Thus it appears that this more than demon, murdered with his own hand, the whole! Gladly would we wash from "memory's waste" all remembrance of that bloody night.
Injuries may be atoned for and forgiven; but insults admit of no compensation. They degrade the mind in its own esteem, and force it to recover its level by revenge. There are certain events in our lives poetically and beautifully described by Moore, as "green spots in memory's waste."
E'en in sleep, pangs felt before, Treasur'd long in memory's store, Bring in visions back their pain, Melt into the heart again. By it crost affections taught Chastened will and sobered thought. AESCHYLUS. Anstice Arthur did not succeed in eluding Lady Elizabeth. She called the day after the funeral, begging especially to see Mrs. Martindale.
He could remember most of them; to his memory's eye the virgin forest stretched for unknown and unnumbered miles west and northward of the settler's adventurous clearing, and the rude log shanty was his home beside the sombre pines.
Carvel, sternly, "your memory's too good. But I proved myself a good business man, Jinny; he paid for her in a year." "You don't mean that you made him pay you for the boat?" cried Jinny. "Why, Pa, I didn't think you were that mean!" The two men laughed heartily. "I was a heap meaner," said her father. "I made him pay interest." Virginia drew in her breath, and looked at the Colonel in amazement.
Carvel, sternly, "your memory's too good. But I proved myself a good business man, Jinny; he paid for her in a year." "You don't mean that you made him pay you for the boat?" cried Jinny. "Why, Pa, I didn't think you were that mean!" The two men laughed heartily. "I was a heap meaner," said her father. "I made him pay interest." Virginia drew in her breath, and looked at the Colonel in amazement.
As Albert's uncle said, 'School now gaped for its prey'. In a very short space of time we should be wending our way back to Blackheath, and all the variegated delightfulness of the country would soon be only preserved in memory's faded flowers. To speak in the language of everyday life, our holiday was jolly nearly up. We had had a ripping time, but it was all but over.
And when our memory's mirror true Reflects the scenes of yore, We'll think of him it brings to view, Who loved to hunt the boar. No. Her bosom's lord sits lightly on his throne? Little Mrs. Lollipop has certainly proved a source of disappointment to her lady friends.
That pageant of the sunny waves is gone, Her glory lives on memory's page alone; It flashes still in Shakespeare's living lay, And Otway's song has snatched it from decay. But ah! her Chian steeds of brass no more Shall lord it proudly over sea and shore; Nor ducal sovereigns launch upon the tide, To win the Adriatic for their bride!
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