The Dennes of Daundelyonn, Volume 2

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Page 109 - Our life is two-fold : Sleep hath its own world, A boundary between the things misnamed Death and existence : Sleep hath its own world, And a wide realm of wild reality. And dreams in their development have breath, And tears, and tortures, and the touch of joy ; They leave a weight upon our waking thoughts, They take a weight from off our waking toils, They do divide our being...
Page 25 - Trust no future, howe'er pleasant! Let the dead past bury its dead! Act, — act in the living present! Heart within, and GOD o'erhead!
Page 134 - O, vERY gloomy is the House of Woe, Where tears are falling while the bell is knelling, With all the dark solemnities which show That Death is in the dwelling. O very, very dreary is the room Where Love, domestic Love, no longer nestles, But, smitten by the common stroke of doom, The Corpse lies on the trestles...
Page 16 - tis of death ! for there are laid The sacrifice of all youth's sweetest hopes. It is a dreadful thing for woman's lip To swear the heart away ; yet know that heart Annuls the vow while speaking, and shrinks back From the dark future that it dares not face. The service read above the open grave Is far less terrible than that which seals The vow that binds the victim, not the will ; For in the grave is rest.
Page 225 - And it always seemed to me as though a joyous crowd were met To see the saddest sight of all, a gay and girlish thing Lay aside her maiden gladness — for a name — and for a ring.
Page 279 - twould glue him, Like rosin on a well-cork'd bottle's snout ; Had twenty devils come with cork-screws to him, They never could have screw'd the secret out. Ibid. p. 74. Again, speaking of the repentance of Friar Roger, — His breast, soon after he was born, Grew like an hostler's lantern, at an inn ; All the circumference was dirty horn, And feebly blinked the ray of warmth within.

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