If I Were In Heaven, Nelly, I

Whatever Our Souls Are Made Of, His And Mine Are The Same.

He Had The Hypocrisy To Represent A Mourner: And Previous To Following With Hareton, He Lifted The Unfortunate Child On To The Table And Muttered, With Peculiar Gusto, 'now, My Bonny Lad, You Are Mine! And We'll See If One Tree Won't Grow As Crooked As Another, With The Same Wind To Twist It!

And, Even Yet, I Dare Not Let It Languish, Dare Not Indulge In Memory's Rapturous Pain; Once Drinking Deep Of That Divinest Anguish, How Could I Seek The Empty World Again?

A Good Heart Will Help You To A Bonny Face, My Lad And A Bad One Will Turn The Bonniest Into Something Worse Than Ugly.

He Had Been Content With Daily Labour And Rough Animal Enjoyments, 'till Catherine Crossed His Path. Shame At Her Scorn, And Hope Of Her Approval, Were His First Prompts To Higher Pursuits; And, Instead Of Guarding Him From One And Winning Him To The Other, His Endeavors To Raise Himself Had Produced Just The Contrary Result.