Agnes Serle, by the author of 'The heiress'.

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Page 189 - O ! many a shaft, at random sent, Finds mark the archer little meant! And many a word, at random spoken, May soothe or wound a heart that's broken!
Page 50 - In sooth, I know not why I am so sad : It wearies me ; you say it wearies you ; But how I caught it, found it, or came by it, What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born, I am to learn ; And such a want-wit sadness makes of me, That I have much ado to know myself.
Page 91 - I see the peril — yet do not recede ; And my brain reels — and yet my foot is firm : There is a power upon me which withholds And makes it my fatality to live ; If it be life to wear within myself This barrenness of spirit, and to be My own soul's sepulchre, for I have ceased To justify my deeds unto myself — The last infirmity of evil.
Page 170 - To comprehend the universe : nor these Alone, but with them gentler powers than mine, Pity, and smiles, and tears — which I had not ; And tenderness — but that I had for her ; Humility — and that I never had. Her faults were mine — her virtues were her own — I loved her, and destroy'd her ! Witch.
Page 170 - She was like me in lineaments — her eyes, Her hair, her features, all, to the very tone Even of her voice, they said were like to mine; But soften'd all, and temper'd into beauty; She had the same lone thoughts and wanderings, The quest of hidden knowledge, and a mind To comprehend the universe: nor these Alone, but with them gentler powers than mine, Pity, and smiles, and tears — which I had not; And...
Page 41 - With more capacity for love than earth Bestows on most of mortal mould and birth, His early dreams of good outstripp'd the truth, And troubled manhood follow'd baffled youth...
Page 4 - Spirit of Love! soon thy rose-plumes wear The weight and the sully of canker and care: Falsehood is round thee ; Hope leads thee on, Till every hue from thy pinion is gone. But one bright moment is all thine own, The one ere thy visible presence is known; When, like the wind of the south, thy power, Sunning the heavens, sweetening the flower, Is felt, but not seen.
Page 4 - Fear has not darkened thee ; Hope has not made The blossoms expand, it but opens to fade. Nothing is known of those wearing fears Which will shadow the light of thy after years.
Page 100 - Little Bo-peep has lost her sheep, And can't tell where to find them, Leave them alone, and they'll come home, And bring their tails behind them.
Page 247 - Oh dismal dole, when the secret soul Is mock'd by the outward showing ; When we dress the eyes in a gay disguise, While the tears are inward flowing ; When groans and grief would be a relief, But with carols we keep them under, And a laugh we start when the throbbing heart Is ready to burst asunder...

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