Letitia Elizabeth Landon Quotes

They met with cold words, and yet colder looks:
Each was changed in himself, and yet each thought
The other only changed, himself the same.

'T was night, but night which the imperial moon,
Regal in her full beauty, turn'd to noon,
But still the noon of midnight; though the ray
Was clear and bright, it was not that of day;

A story from the stars; or rather one
Of starry fable from the olden time,
When young Imagination was as fresh
As the fair world it peopled with itself.

Like a human thought in quest
Of a future hour.

What a visionary thing is the independence of youth ! how full of projects, which take the shape of certainties ! How much of rugged and stern experience it requires to convince the young and the eager, that the efforts of an individual unaided by connexion or circumstance, are the true reading of the allegory of the Danaides : —industry and skill, alas, how often are they but water drawn with labour into a bucket full of holes !

Each look'd upon his comrade's face,
Pale as funereal stone ;
Yet none could touch the other's hand,
For none could feel his own.
Like statues fixed, that gallant band
Stood on the dread deck to die ;
The sleet was their shroud, the wind their dirge,
And their churchyard the sea and sky.

Our sky has lost another star,
The earth has claimed its own,
And into dread eternity A glorious one is gone. He who could give departed things
So much of light and breath, He is himself now with the past —
Gone forth from life to death.

The Scotch are too cautious to be witty — they take thought beforehand of their answers ; they are not people of impulse, and wit is an impulse. "It springs spontaneous if it spring." But then they have humour, rich, racy, sly humour, full of national character, and nearly allied to pathos.

For many years he has not breathed the air,
The wholesome open air ; the sun, the moon,
The stars, the clouds, the fair blue heaven, the spring,
The flowers, the trees, and the sweet face of man,
Song, or words yet more musical than song,
Affections, feelings, social intercourse
(Unless remembered in his fairy dreams)
Have all been strangers to his solitude ! —
A curse is set on him, like poverty,
Or leprosy, or the red plague, but worse, —
The heart has sent its fire up to the brain,
And he is mad.

In the east the day was reddening,
When the warriors pass'd ;
In the west the night was deadening,
As they looked their last ;
As they looked their last on him —
He, their comrade — their commander —
He, the earth's adored —
He, the godlike Alexander !
Who can wield his sword ?
As they went their eyes were dim,
The silver-shielded warriors,
The warriors of the world !

They know there must be May within the year, Else would they never dream that May was here.

I'm weary, I'm weary,—this cold world of ours;
I will go dwell afar, with fairies and flowers.
. . . .
I'm weary, I'm weary,—I'm off with the wind:
Can I find a worse fate than the one left behind?

I like to be candid in my admissions — it is so very disarming ; you forestall the objection which you admit — at least your adversary has scarcely the heart to push to its utmost the advantage which you so meekly confess.

Alas!
We give our destiny from our own hands,
And trust to those most frail of all frail things,
The chances of humanity.

They see the mortal maiden ride
In honour by the chieftan's side,
So beautiful, so free from sin,
Worthy was she such boon to win :
The spirit race that floated round
Were not more pure, more stainless found