The roaring of the wind is my wife and the stars through the window pane are my children. The mighty abstract idea I have of beauty in all things stifles the more divided and minute domestic happiness.
My chest of books divide amongst my friends.
I think we may class the lawyer in the natural history of monsters.
Fanatics have their dreams, wherewith they weave a paradise for a sect.
Alas! when passion is both meek and wild!
O let me lead her gently o'er the brook, Watch her half-smiling lips and downward look; O let me for one moment touch her wrist; Let me one moment to her breathing list; And as she leaves me, may she often turn Her fair eyes looking through her locks auburne.