It Was Still Early, And The Sun's

He Knelt And Bent Lower, Till Her Breath Warmed His Face, And In A Moment His Cheek Was In Contact With Hers. She Was Sleeping Soundly, And Upon Her Eyelashes There Lingered Tears.

There Was Now A Distinct Manifestation Of Morning In The Air, And Presently The Bleared White Visage Of A Sunless Winter Day Emerged Like A Dead-born Child.

Love Is A Possible Strength In An Actual Weakness.

She Was At That Modulating Point Between Indifference And Love, At The Stage Called Having A Fancy For. It Occurs Once In The History Of The Most Gigantic Passions, And It Is A Period When They Are In The Hands Of The Weakest Will.

A Blaze Of Love And Extinction, Was Better Than A Lantern Glimmer Of The Same Which Should Last Long Years.