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Updated: May 10, 2025
Only grant a second life, I acquiesce In this present life as failure, count misfortune's worst assaults Triumph, not defeat, assured that loss so much the more exalts Gain about to be.
In giving this letter to Kárun, Kai-khosráu directed him, in the first place, to deliver a message from him to Shydah, to the following effect: "Driven art thou out from home and life, Doomed to engage in mortal strife, For deeply lours misfortune's cloud; That gay attire will be thy shroud; Blood from thy father's eyes will gush, As Káús wept for Saiáwush."
The warriors now, with sad forebodings wrung, Torn from that hope to which they proudly clung, On Gúdarz rest, to soothe with gentle sway, The frantic King, and Rustem's wrath allay. With bitter grief they wail misfortune's shock, No shepherd now to guard the timorous flock. Gúdarz at length, with boding cares imprest, Thus soothed the anger in the royal breast.
Or did misfortune's bitter storms Around thee blaw, around thee blaw, Thy bield should be my bosom, To share it a', to share it a'." "Or were I in the wildest waste, Sae black and bare, sae black and bare, The desert were a paradise, If thou wert there, if thou wert there.
The lines referred to are given below Friend of the wretch oppress'd with grief. Whose lenient hand, though slow, supplies The balm that lends to care relief, That wipes her tears that checks her sighs! 'Tis thine the wounded soul to heal That hopeless bleeds for sorrow's smart, From stern misfortune's shaft to steal The barb that rankles in the heart.
Chilled by misfortune's wintry blast, My dream of life is overcast. Love, hope, and joy, adieu Would I could add, remembrance too." Byron. Arthur was at his place in the morning, almost as soon as Jeff opened the door. His face was pale and haggard, and wore upon it a look of unbroken gloom, and his eye wandered restlessly, as if dreading to meet another's gaze.
And she looked down into the well; and it was a happiness to see how the one became a blessing to the world, to see how much happiness and joy were felt everywhere. And she saw the other's life, and it was sorrow and distress, horror, and wretchedness. "Both of them are God's will!" said Death. "Which of them is Misfortune's flower? and which is that of Happiness?" asked she.
That which is lasting we share with the future, we defer the consideration of till to-morrow: that which belongs to the moment we drink up in all its bitterness, before the spirit evaporates. We probe minute mischiefs to the quick; we lacerate, tear, and mangle our bosoms with misfortune's finest, brittlest point, and wreak our vengeance on ourselves and it for good and all.
Poor James Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd, came to advise with me about his affairs, he is sinking under the times; having no assistance to give him, my advice, I fear, will be of little service. I am sorry for him if that would help him, especially as, by his own account, a couple of hundred pounds would carry him on. February 16. "Misfortune's gowling bark" comes louder and louder.
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