The False Step, and The Sisters, Volume 1

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E. Bull, 1832
 

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Page 116 - O, never say that I was false of heart, Though absence seem'd my flame to qualify. As easy might I from myself depart As from my soul, which in thy breast doth lie...
Page 125 - ALAS ! how light a cause may move Dissension between hearts that love ! Hearts that the world in vain had tried, And sorrow but more closely tied ; That stood the storm when waves were rough, Yet in a sunny hour fall off, Like ships that have gone down at sea, When heaven was all tranquillity...
Page 38 - I feel the impulse — yet I do not plunge; 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...
Page 14 - OFT o'er my brain does that strange fancy roll Which makes the present (while the flash doth last) Seem a mere semblance of some unknown past Mixed with such feelings, as perplex the soul Self-questioned in her sleep ; and some have said We lived, ere yet this robe of flesh we wore.
Page 61 - Oh ! there are looks and tones that dart An instant sunshine through the heart, — As if the soul that minute caught Some treasure it through life had sought...
Page 100 - O, it is monstrous! monstrous! Methought, the billows spoke, and told me of it; The winds did sing it to me; and the thunder, That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounc'd The name of Prosper; it did bass my trespass. Therefore my son i" the ooze is bedded ; and I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded, And with him there lie mudded.
Page 37 - Which leaveth her eggs in the earth, And warmeth them in the dust, And forgetteth that the foot may crush them, Or that the wild beast may break them.
Page 29 - The time would e'er be o'er, And I on thee should look my last, And thou shouldst smile no more! And still upon that face I look, And think 'twill smile again ; And still the thought I will not brook, That I must look in vain ! But when I speak— thou dost not...
Page 56 - O aching time! O moments big as years! All as ye pass swell out the monstrous truth, And press it so upon our weary griefs That unbelief has not a space to breathe. Saturn, sleep on: — O thoughtless, why did I Thus violate thy slumbrous solitude? Why should I ope thy melancholy eyes? Saturn, sleep on! while at thy feet I weep.
Page 66 - Oh, that I were The viewless spirit of a lovely sound, A living voice, a breathing harmony, A bodiless enjoyment — born and dying With the blest tone which made me ! Enter from below a CHAMOIS HUNTER.

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