In Secret Pleasure — Secret Tears This

Oh, Cathy! Oh, My Life! How Can I Bear It?" Was The First Sentence He Uttered, In A Tone That Did Not Seek To Disguise His Despair. And Now He Stared At Her So Earnestly That I Thought The Very Intensity Of His Gaze Would Bring Tears Into His Eyes; But They Burned With Anguish: They Did Not Melt.

Alas, For The Effects Of Bad Tea And Bad Temper!

But There's This One Difference: One Is Gold Put To The Use Of Paving-stones, And The Other Is Tin Polished To Ape A Service Of Silver. Mine Has Nothing Valuable About It; Yet I Shall Have The Merit Of Making It Go As Far As Such Poor Stuff Can Go. His Had First-rate Qualities, And They Are Lost, Rendered Worst Than Unavailing.

Tis Moonlight, Summer Moonlight, All Soft And Still And Fair; The Solemn Hour Of Midnight Breathes Sweet Thoughts Everywhere, But Most Where Trees Are Sending Their Breezy Boughs On High, Or Stooping Low Are Lending A Shelter From The Sky. And There In Those Wild Bowers A Lovely Form Is Laid; Green Grass And Dew-steeped Flowers Wave Gently Round Her Head.

I'll Walk Where My Own Nature Would Be Leading: It Vexes Me To Choose Another Guide: Where The Grey Flocks In Ferny Glens Are Feeding; Where The Wild Wind Blows On The Mountain-side.