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You—happy—across whose tablets a kind fate draws the sponge of oblivion even while you write, who leave the cup half emptied, and the feast half finished; you, from whose thoughts ambition passes in w
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You—happy—across whose tablets a kind fate draws the sponge of oblivion even while you write, who leave the cup half emptied, and the feast half finished; you, from whose thoughts ambition passes in w
After that eventful episode just detailed, life ran smooth and uneventful for a time in the old manor-house. I had had …
The episodes I now relate are so strange, so nearly impossible, that I hesitate to set them down lest you should call m…
He who has not left something sad behind him, and reawoke in the sunshine to feel the golden elixir of health and happi…
“Now, look you here, Sir,” the old philosopher began, taking me by a tassel on my satin doublet, and working himself up…
A bright dazzle of sunshine roused me with the following sunrise. I rubbed my sleepy lids and sat up, vaguely gazing ro…
I slept all that night a deep, unbroken slumber, waking with the first glimpse of morning, calm and refreshed, but very…
I cannot say, distinctly, what roused me next morning. My faculties were all in a maze, my body cramped and stiff as ol…
Unwashed, unfed, my dinted armor on me still—battle-stained and rent—unhelmeted, ungloved, my sword and scabbard cast b…
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