A Good Heart Will Help You To

Lines I Die But When The Grave Shall Press The Heart So Long Endeared To Thee When Earthy Cares No More Distress And Earthy Joys Are Nought To Me. Weep Not, But Think That I Have Past Before Thee O'er The Sea Of Gloom. Have Anchored Safe And Rest At Last Where Tears And Mouring Can Not Come. 'tis I Should Weep To Leave Thee Here On That Dark Ocean Sailing Drear With Storms Around And Fears Before And No Kind Light To Point The Shore. But Long Or Short Though Life May Be 'tis Nothing To Eternity. We Part Below To Meet On High Where Blissful Ages Never Die.

I Have Fled My Country And Gone To The Heather.

How Cruel, Your Veins Are Full Of Ice-water And Mine Are Boiling

Are You Acquainted With The Mood Of Mind In Which, If You Were Seated Alone, And The Cat Licking Its Kitten On The Rug Before You, You Would Watch The Operation So Intently That Puss's Neglect Of One Ear Would Put You Seriously Out Of Temper?

The Intense Horror Of Nightmare Came Over Me: I Tried To Draw Back My Arm, But The Hand Clung To It, And A Most Melancholy Voice Sobbed, 'let Me In - Let Me In!' 'who Are You?' I Asked, Struggling, Meanwhile, To Disengage Myself. 'catherine Linton,' It Replied, Shiveringly (why Did I Think Of Linton? I Had Read Earnshaw Twenty Times For Linton) - 'i'm Come Home: I'd Lost My Way On The Moor!' As It Spoke, I Discerned, Obscurely, A Child's Face Looking Through The Window.