Reproof on her lip, but a smile in her eye.

To return after long years of painful absence to some place which has been the scene of our former joys, and whence the force of circumstance, and not choice, has driven us, is oppressive to the heart.

Too little is it considered, while we gaze on aristocratic beauty, how much good food, soft lying, warm wrapping, ease of mind, have to do with the attractions which command our admiration.

For dhrames always go by conthraries, my dear.

Reproof on her lip, but a smile in her eye.

I'll seek a four leaved shamrock in all thy fairy dells, And if I find the charmed leaves, oh, how I'll weave my spells!

Better to be safe than sorry.