Life and Literature - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
846
An innocent heart suspects no guile.
--_Portuguese._
847
A BROKEN HEART.
Dr. Mitch.e.l.l of Philadelphia, in lecturing to his pupils upon the diseases of the heart, narrated an anecdote to prove that the expression "broken heart" was not merely figurative. On one occasion, in the early period of his life, he accompanied, as surgeon, a packet that sailed from Liverpool to one of the American ports. The captain frequently conversed with him respecting a lady who had promised to become his bride on his return from that voyage. Upon this subject he evinced great warmth of feeling, and showed Dr. Mitch.e.l.l some costly jewels, ornaments, etc., which he intended to present as bridal presents. On reaching his destination, he was abruptly informed that the lady had married some one else. Instantly the captain was observed to clap his hand to his breast, and fall heavily to the ground. He was taken up, and conveyed to his cabin on board the vessel. Dr. Mitch.e.l.l was immediately summoned; but, before he reached the poor captain, he was dead. A postmortem examination revealed the cause of his unfortunate disease.
His heart was found literally torn in twain! The tremendous propulsion of blood, consequent upon such a violent nervous shock, forced the powerful muscle tissues asunder, and life was at an end. The heart was broken.
848
Every heart has its secret sorrow, which the world knows not; and oftentimes we call a man cold when he is only sad.
849
PARTING.
To know, to esteem, to love,--and then to part, Makes up life's tale to many a feeling heart.
--_Coleridge._
850
Some men's hearts are as great as the world, and still have no room in them to hold the memory of a wrong.
851
How small is the human heart, and yet even there, G.o.d enters in.
852
A ROYAL HEART.
Ragged, uncomely, and old and gray, A woman walked in a Scottish town; And through the crowd, as she wound her way, One saw her loiter and then stoop down, Putting something away in her old, torn gown.
"You are hiding a jewel!" the watcher said-- (Ah, that was her heart, had the truth been read.) "What have you stolen?" he asked again; Then the dim eyes filled with a sudden pain, And under the flickering light of the gas She showed him her gleaning. "It's broken gla.s.s,"
She said. "I hae lifted it up frae the street To be oot o' the rood o' the bairnies' feet!"
Under the fluttering rags astir That was a royal heart that beat!
Would that the world had more like her Smoothing the road for its bairnies' feet!
--_W. H. Ogilvie._
853
IS IT INSTINCT?
Ye who know the reason, tell me How is it that instinct Prompts the heart to like or not like At its own capricious will?
Tell me by what hidden magic Our impressions first are led Into liking or disliking, Oft before a word is said?
Why should smiles sometimes repel us?
Bright eyes turn our feelings cold?
What is it that comes to tell us All that glitters is not gold?
Oh! no feature, plain or striking, But a power we cannot shun Prompts our liking and disliking, Ere acquaintance hath begun.
Is it instinct? or some spirit Which protects us, and controls Every impulse we inherit, By some sympathy of souls?
Is it instinct? is it nature?
Or some freak or fault of chance, Which our liking or disliking Limits to a single glance?
Like presentiment of danger, Though the sky no shadow flings; Or that inner sense, still stranger, Of unseen, unuttered things?
Is it? oh! can no one tell me, No one show sufficient cause Why our likings and dislikings Have their own instinctive laws?
854
_The Bitterness of Estrangement._--To be estranged from one whom we have tenderly and constantly loved, is one of the bitterest trials the heart can ever know.
--_Prynne._
855
There is no place where weeds do not grow, and there is no heart where errors are not to be found.
856
We open the hearts of others when we open our own.
857
Earth hath nothing more tender than a woman's heart, when it is the abode of piety.
858
And yet when all is thought and said, The heart still overrules the head.
