The Flowers of Literature: Consisting of Selections from History, Biography, Poetry, and Romance; Jeux D'esprit, Traditionary Relics, and Essays, with Translations from Approved Authors, Volume 4

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Page 155 - But coldly she turns from their gaze, and weeps, For her heart in his grave is lying.
Page 153 - ... lamented the stern policy that dictated his execution. But there was one heart, whose anguish it would be impossible to describe. In happier days and fairer fortunes, he had won the affections of a beautiful and interesting girl, the daughter of a late celebrated Irish barrister. She loved him with the disinterested fervour of a woman's first and early love.
Page 201 - While Butler, needy wretch, was yet alive, No generous patron would a dinner give ; See him, when starved to death and turn'd to dust, Presented with a monumental bust. The poet's fate is here in emblem shown, He ask'd for bread, and he received a stone.
Page 359 - No, the heart that has truly loved never forgets, But as truly loves on to the close, As the sun-flower turns on her god, when he sets, The same look which she turned when he rose.
Page 152 - ... withering, when it should be most fresh and luxuriant We see it drooping its branches to the earth, and shedding leaf by leaf, until, wasted and perished away, it falls even in the stillness of the forest ; and as we muse over the beautiful ruin, we strive in vain to recollect the blast or thunderbolt that could have smitten it with decay. I have seen many instances of women running to waste and self-neglect, and disappearing gradually from the earth, almost as if they had been exhaled to heaven...
Page 69 - ... unarmed. Their object was not to do injury, and thus provoke the Great Spirit, but to do good. They were then met on the broad pathway of good faith and good will, so that no advantage was to be taken on either side, but all was to be openness, brotherhood, and love.
Page 161 - In the course of a December tour in Yorkshire, I rode for a long distance in one of the public coaches, on the day preceding Christmas. The coach was crowded, both inside and out, with passengers, who, by their talk, seemed principally bound to the mansions of relations or friends, to eat the Christmas dinner.
Page 151 - But a woman's whole life is a history of the affections. The heart is her world; it is there her ambition strives for empire; it is there her avarice seeks for hidden treasures; she sends forth her sympathies on adventure; she embarks her whole soul in the traffic of affection, and if shipwrecked, her case is hopeless, for it is a bankruptcy of the heart.
Page 152 - ... when otherwise, she buries it in the recesses of her bosom, and there lets it cower and brood among the ruins of her peace. € With her the desire of the heart has failed. The great charm of existence is at an end. She neglects all the cheerful exercises which gladden the spirits, quicken the pulses, and send the tide of life in healthful currents through the veins. Her rest is broken, the sweet refreshment of sleep is poisoned by melancholy dreams, " dry sorrow drinks her blood," until her...
Page 153 - But could the sympathy and good offices of friends have reached a spirit so shocked and driven in by horror, she would have experienced no want of consolation, for the Irish are a people of quick and generous sensibilities. The most delicate and cherishing attentions were paid her by families of wealth and distinction.

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