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Do not endeavour to deprive me of my companion, the out-cast's friend. "One word more concerning unkind, unjust Perdita. For a time, I thought that, by watching a complying moment, fostering the still warm ashes, I might relume in her the flame of love. It is more cold within her, than a fire left by gypsies in winter-time, the spent embers crowned by a pyramid of snow.
Who can forget Othello's soliloquy as he prepares to darken his marriage chamber before the murder of his wife? "Put out the light, and then put out the light. If I quench thee, thou flaming minister, I can again thy former light restore, Should I repent me; but once put out thy light, Thou cunning'st pattern of excelling nature, I know not where is that Promethean heat, That can thy light relume.
If I quench thee, thou flaming minister, I can again thy former light restore, Should I repent me; but once put out thy light, Thou cunning'st pattern of excelling nature, I know not where is the Promethean heat That can thy light relume. When I have plucked thy rose, I cannot give it vital growth again; It needs must wither.
Now, when he comes, he may get the order, the dress, and the dinner, but the throbbing of the heart, and the communications of the soul, no more. What is so pleasant as these jets of affection which relume a young world for me again? What is so delicious as a just and firm encounter of two, in a thought, in a feeling?
Delay seemed to mock his patience, time dimmed his eyes, and suspense might well have sickened his heart but at last the hour arrives, the ancient oracles are fulfilled celestial revelations, after the lapse of four hundred years from the days of Malachi, relume a benighted world Zacharias, Mary, Simeon, received the prophetic spirit; and death becomes disarmed of his terrors, amidst the bright gleamings of approaching day.
And is it thus I see thee once again? Thus thou returnest to thy father's halls! Oh, let my breath relume thy vital spark; Yes! I will strain thee to a mother's arms And hold thee fast till from the frost of death Released thy life-warm current throbs again. Where hast thou found her? Speak! What dire mischance Has caused this sight of woe? My lips are dumb!
"I have left myself little space for more small-talk. I must, therefore, conclude with wishing that your English dreams may continue bright, and that when they begin to fade you will come and relume at one of the white-bait dinners of which you used to talk in such terms of rapture. "Have I space to say that I am very truly yours?
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