The bar-sinister, or, Memoirs of an illegitimate [signed C.E.L.].

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Side 127 - True love's the gift which God has given To man alone beneath the heaven : It is not fantasy's hot fire, Whose wishes, soon as granted, fly; It liveth not in fierce desire, With dead desire it doth not die ; It is the secret sympathy, The silver link, the silken tie, Which heart to heart, and mind to mind, In body and in soul can bind.
Side 3 - Satan except, none higher sat, with grave Aspect he rose, and in his rising seemed A pillar of state; deep on his front engraven Deliberation sat and public care; And princely counsel in his face yet shone, Majestic though in ruin: sage he stood, With Atlantean shoulders fit to bear The weight of mightiest monarchies; his look Drew audience and attention still as night Or summer's noontide air...
Side 319 - For time at last sets all things even — And if we do but watch the hour, There never yet was human power Which could evade, if unforgiven, The patient search and vigil long Of him who treasures up a wrong.
Side 156 - Alas ! the love of women ! it is known To be a lovely and a fearful thing ; For all of theirs upon that die is thrown, And if 'tis lost, life hath no more to bring To them but mockeries of the past alone...
Side 275 - I speak not, I trace not, I breathe not thy name, There is grief in the sound, there is guilt in the fame: But the tear which now burns on my cheek may impart The deep thoughts that dwell in that silence of heart. Too brief for our passion, too long for our peace, Were those hours — can their joy or their bitterness cease? We repent, we abjure, we will break from our chain, — We will part, we will fly to— unite it again!
Side 226 - Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night, Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day; And with thy bloody and invisible hand Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond Which keeps me pale! Light thickens; and the crow Makes wing to the rooky wood: Good things of day begin to droop and drowse; Whiles night's black agents to their preys do rouse.
Side 92 - A mighty mass of brick, and smoke, and shipping, Dirty and dusky, but as wide as eye Could reach, with here and there a sail just skipping In sight, then lost amidst the forestry Of masts; a wilderness of steeples peeping On tiptoe through their sea-coal canopy; A huge, dun cupola, like a foolscap crown On a fool's head - and there is London Town!
Side 230 - Man's love is of man's life a thing apart, Tis woman's whole existence; man may range The court, camp, church, the vessel, and the mart. Sword, gown, gain, glory, offer in exchange Pride, fame, ambition, to fill up his heart, And few there are whom these cannot estrange; Men have all these resources, we but one, To love again, and be again undone.
Side 343 - With thee, my bark, I'll swiftly go Athwart the foaming brine ; Nor care what land thou bear'st me to, So not again to mine. Welcome, welcome, ye dark blue waves ! And when you fail my sight, Welcome, ye deserts, and ye caves ! My native land— Good Night !
Side 310 - Love bears within its breast the very germ Of change ; and how should this be otherwise ? That violent things more quickly find a term Is shown through Nature's whole analogies ; And how should the most fierce of all be firm ? Would you have endless lightning in the skies ? Methinks Love's very title says enough : How should " the tender passion

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