Letitia Elizabeth Landon Quotes

Alas! when angry words begin Their entrance on the lip to win; When sullen eye and flushing cheek Say more than bitterest tone could speak; And look and word, than fire or steel, Give wounds more deep,—time cannot heal;
And anger digs, with tauntings vain,
A gulf it may not pass again.

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

Despair weeps not. Her lip moved as in prayer
Unconsciously ; as if prayers had been there,
And they moved now from custom.

There stood she, even as a statue stands,
With head droop'd downward, and with clasped hands;
Such small white hands that match'd her ivory feet,
How may they bear that scorching fire to meet?

True love is timid, as it knew its worth,
And that such happiness is scarce for earth.

Out on the heartless creed which nulls the claim
Upon the heart of kindred, birth, and name.

'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;

And Love is like the lightning in its might,
Winging where least bethought its fiery flight,
Melting the blade, despite the scabbard's guard.

For he had curious colours, that could give
The human face so like, it seem'd to live.

It is a charmed ring—this emerald stone
Will be a sign, when thou art from me gone.
Mark if it changes; if a spot be seen
On the now spotless ground of lighted green,
Danger is round me; haste thou then to me,
Thou know'st how fearless is my trust in thee.

For love is like the breathing wind,
That everywhere may entrance find.

It was a summer evening; and the sea
Seem'd to rejoice in its tranquillity ;
Rolling its gentle waters to the west,
Till the rich crimson blush'd upon their breast,
Uniting lovingly the wave and sky,
Like Hope content in its delight to die.

Then rose those deadlier sounds that tell
When foes meet hand to hand,— The shout, the yell, the iron clang
Of meeting spear and brand.

Light like the wan blue flames that wave
Their death-torch o'er the murderer's grave ;
And flickering shapes beset the way,
Watching in gloom to seize their prey,
Most terrible, for that the eye
Wander'd in dim uncertainty ;

The bright cloud shone on the river's face,
But the death-black waters had not a trace
Of the crimson blaze that over them play'd :
It seem'd as if a curse were laid
On the grass, on the river, the tree, and the flower,
And shut them out from the sunbeam's power ;