Vernon Grove: Or, Hearts as They Are. A Novel

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Rudd & Carleton, 1859 - 389 pages

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Page 172 - 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...
Page 81 - Is wise in man. As if an angel spoke, I feel the solemn sound. If heard aright, It is the knell of my departed hours. Where are they? With the years beyond the flood. It is the signal that demands despatch: How much is to be done! My hopes and fears Start up alarmed, and o'er life's narrow verge Look down — on what ? A fathomless abyss ! A dread eternity!
Page 302 - Nor dare she trust a larger lay, But rather loosens from the lip Short swallow-flights of song, that dip Their wings in tears, and skim away.
Page 68 - Thus solemnized and softened, death is mild And terrorless as this serenest night : Here could I hope, like some inquiring child Sporting on graves, that death did hide from human sight Sweet secrets, or beside its breathless sleep That loveliest dreams perpetual watch did keep.
Page 55 - BETTER trust all and be deceived, And weep that trust and that deceiving, Than doubt one heart that, if believed, Had blessed one's life with true believing. Oh, in this mocking world, too fast The doubting fiend o'ertakes our youth; Better be cheated to the last Than lose the blessed hope of truth.
Page 286 - WHEN some beloved voice that was to you Both sound and sweetness, faileth suddenly, And silence against which you dare not cry, Aches round you like a strong disease and new — What hope ? what help ? what music will undo That silence to your sense?
Page 191 - And her face is lily-clear, Lily-shaped, and dropped in duty To the law of its own beauty. Oval cheeks encolored faintly, Which a trail of golden hair Keeps from fading off to air: And a forehead fair and saintly, Which two blue eyes undershine, Like meek prayers before a shrine.
Page 172 - And underneath that face, like summer ocean's, Its lip as moveless, and its cheek as clear, Slumbers a whirlwind of the heart's emotions, Love, hatred, pride, hope, sorrow — all save fear.
Page 300 - His love is hidden, like the springs Which lie in Earth's deep heart below, And murmur there a thousand things, Which naught above may hear or know. Tis hid, not buried ! Without sound, Or light or limit, night and day, It like the dark springs under ground, Runs, ebbs not, and can ne'er decay...
Page 145 - ... now, and far away the falling Of phantom feet. The glittering dome, the arch, the towering column. Are sights that greet us now on every hand, And all so wild — so strange — so sweetly solemn — So like one's fancies formed of fairy land ! And these then are your works, mysterious powers ! Your spells are o'er, around us, and beneath, These opening aisles, these crystal fruits and flowers, And glittering grots and high-arched beauteous bowers, As still as death...

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