Letitia Elizabeth Landon Quotes

It is like love ; oh love should be
An ever-changing thing, —
The love that I could worship must
Be ever on the wing.

For wishes are effectual but by will,
And that too much is impotent and void
In frail humanity; and time steals by
Sinful and wavering, and unredeem'd.

Upon the sunny grass-plot stood the dial,
Whose measured time strange contrast with ours made :
Ah ! was it omen of life's after trial,
That even then the hours were told in shade,
In the old, old times,
The dear old times ?

... who cares for a general compliment more than a general lover.

We know not of its presence, though its power
Be on the gradual round of every hour,
Now flinging down an empire, now a flower.

What is the world that lies around our own ? Shadowy, unsubstantial, and wonderful are the viewless elements, peopled with spirits powerful and viewless as the air which is their home. From the earth's earliest hour, the belief in the supernatural has been universal. At first the faith was full of poetry ; for, in those days, the imagination walked the earth even as did the angels, shedding their glory around the children of men. The Chaldeans watched from their lofty towers the silent beauty of night — they saw the stars go forth on their appointed way, and deemed that they bore with them the mighty records of eternity. Each separate planet shone on some mortal birth, and as its aspect was for good or for evil, such was the aspect of the fortunes that began beneath its light. Those giant watch-towers, with their grey sages, asked of the midnight its mystery, and held its starry roll to be the chronicle of this breathing world. Time past on, angels visited the earth no more, and the divine beliefs of young imagination grew earthlier. Yet poetry lingered in the mournful murmur of the oaks of Dodona, and in the fierce war song of the flying vultures, of whom the Romans demanded tidings of conquest. But prophecy gradually sank into divination, and it is a singular proof of the extent both of human credulity and of curiosity, to note the various methods that have had the credit of forestalling the future. From the stars to a tea-cup is a fall indeed —

I was borne on an eagle's wing,
Till with the noon-sun perishing;
Then I stood in a world alone,
From which all other life was gone,
Whence warmth, and breath, and light were fled,
A world o'er which a curse was said:
The trees stood leafless all, and bare,
The sky spread, but no sun was there:
Night came, no stars were on her way,
Morn came without a look of day,—
As night and day shared one pale shroud,
Without a colour or a cloud.
And there were rivers, but they stood
Without a murmur on the flood,
Waveless and dark, their task was o'er,—
The sea lay silent on the shore,
Without a sign upon its breast
Save of interminable rest:
And there were palaces and halls,
But silence reign'd amid their walls,
Though crowds yet fill'd them; for no sound
Rose from the thousands gather'd round;
All wore the same white, bloodless hue,
All the same eyes of glassy blue,
Meaningless, cold, corpse-like as those
No gentle hand was near to close.
And all seem'd, as they look'd on me,
In wonder that I yet could be
A moving shape of warmth and breath
Alone amid a world of death.

She gazed, although she knew not why,
Where ocean seemed another sky.
The moon looked down upon the deep,
Till in that deep it seemed to be;
Scarce might the eye the image keep
Of which was sky, and which was sea.

A weight is on the air, for ev'ry breeze
Has, bird-like, folded up its wings for sleep.

Ah! love is even more fragile than its gifts!
A tress of raven hair:--oh, only those
Whose souls have felt this one idolatry
Can tell how precious is the slightest thing
Affection gives and hallows.

They say suppers are very unwholesome, our grandfathers and grandmothers never discovered it ...

I believe that the grand secret of attraction is, that the details always turn on what is present to our fears, or gratifying to our vanity.

There is truth and certainty in our first impressions. First impressions are natural monitors, and nature is a true guide.

Alas! alas! how plague-spot like will sin
Spread over the wrung heart it enters in!

Oh! frail are the many links that are
In the chain of affection's tender care,