What Great Men Have Said About Women - LightNovelsOnl.com
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And down her shoulders graceful roll'd Her locks profuse of paly gold ...
She charm'd at once, and tamed the heart.
_Marmion, Canto 5._
At length, an effort sent apart The blood that curdled to her heart, And light came to her eye, And color dawn'd upon her cheek, A hectic and a flutter'd streak.
And when her silence broke at length, Still as she spoke she gather'd strength, And arm'd herself to bear;-- It was a fearful sight to see Such high resolve and constancy, In form so soft and fair.
_Marmion, Canto 2._
She look'd down to blush, and she look'd up to sigh, With a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye.
_Marmion, Canto 5._
Her very soul is in home, and in the discharge of all those quiet virtues of which home is the centre. Her husband will be to her the object of all her care, solicitude, and affection. She will see nothing, but by him, and through him. If he is a man of sense and virtue, she will sympathize in his sorrows, divert his fatigue, and share his pleasures. If she becomes the property of a churlish or negligent husband, she will suit his taste also, for she will not long survive his unkindness.--_Waverley._
When there can be no confidence betwixt a man and his plighted wife, it is a sign she has no longer the regard for him that made their engagement safe and suitable.--_The Heart of Mid-Lothian._
She was by nature perfectly good-humoured, and if her due share of admiration and homage was duly resigned to her, no one could possess better temper, or a more friendly disposition; but then, like all despots, the more power that was voluntarily yielded to her, the more she desired to extend her sway. Sometimes, even when all her ambition was gratified, she chose to be a little out of health, and a little out of spirits.--- _The Talisman._
Her look composed, and steady eye, Bespoke a matchless constancy.
_Marmion, Canto 2._
The n.o.ble dame, amid the broil, Shared the gray seneschal's high toil, And spoke of danger with a smile; Cheer'd the young knights, and council sage Held with the chiefs of riper age.
_The Lay of the Last Minstrel, Canto 3._
Woman's faith and woman's trust, Write the characters in dust.
_The Betrothed._
Ne'er did Grecian chisel trace A Nymph, or Naiad, or a Grace, Of finer form, or lovelier face!
What though the sun, with ardent frown, Had slightly tinged her cheek with brown, The sportive toil, which, short and light Had dyed her glowing hue so bright, Served too in hastier swell to show Short glimpses of a breast of snow; What though no rule of courtly grace To measured mood had train'd her pace,-- A foot more light, a step more true, Ne'er from the heath-flower dash'd the dew; E'en the slight hare-bell raised its head, Elastic from her airy tread; What though upon her speech there hung The accent of the mountain tongue, Those silver sounds, so soft, so clear, The list'ner held his breath to hear.
_Lady of the Lake, Canto 1._
Spoilt she was on all hands.... But though, from these circ.u.mstances, the city-beauty had become as wilful, as capricious, and as affected, as unlimited indulgence seldom fails to render those to whom it is extended; and although she exhibited upon many occasions that affectation of extreme shyness, silence, and reserve, which misses are apt to take for an amiable modesty; and upon others, a considerable portion of that flippancy which youth sometimes confounds with wit, she had much real shrewdness and judgment, which wanted only opportunities of observation to refine it--a lively, good-humoured, playful disposition, and an excellent heart.--_The Fortunes of Nigel._
The buoyant vivacity with which she had resisted every touch of adversity, had now a.s.sumed the air of composed and submissive, but dauntless, resolution and constancy.--_Rob Roy._
Her complexion was exquisitely fair, but the n.o.ble cast of her head and features prevented the insipidity which sometimes attaches to fair beauties. Her clear blue eye, which sat enshrined beneath a graceful eyebrow of brown, sufficiently marked to give expression to the forehead, seemed capable to kindle as well as to melt, to command as well as to beseech.--_Ivanhoe._
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.
She was a Phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely Apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair; Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful Dawn; A dancing Shape, and Image gay, To haunt, to startle, and waylay.
_A Phantom of Delight._
A gentle maid, whose heart is lowly bred, With joyousness, and with a thoughtful cheer.
_A Farewell._
A Spirit, yet a Woman too!
Her household motions light and free, And steps of virgin liberty; A countenance in which did meet Sweet records, promises as sweet; A Creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food; For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.
_A Phantom of Delight._
Sister ... Thy mind Shall be a mansion for all lovely forms, Thy memory be as a dwelling-place For all sweet sounds and harmonies.
_Tintern Abbey._
She gave me eyes, she gave me ears; And humble cares, and delicate fears; A heart, the fountain of sweet tears; And love and thought and joy.
_The Sparrow's Nest._
'Tis her's to pluck the amaranthine flower Of faith, and 'round the sufferer's temples bind Wreaths that endure affliction's heaviest shower, And do not shrink from sorrow's keenest wind.
_Weak is the Will of Man._
I praise thee, Matron! and thy due Is praise....
With admiration I behold Thy gladness unsubdued and bold; Thy looks, thy gestures, all present The picture of a life well spent.
_The Matron of Jedborough._
A blooming girl, whose hair was wet With points of morning due....
