...square towers all round the town, but neither they nor the gates are perfect. There are scarcely any The fire that on my bosom preys Is lone as some volcanic...torch is kindled at its blaze — A funeral pile. The hope, the fear, the jealous care, The exalted portion of the pain And power of love I cannot share,...

...intoxicated by their good fortune. They had abundance and something for the necessitous. ttorattfol " The fire that on my bosom preys, Is lone as some volcanic...No torch is kindled at its blaze — A funeral pile ! " In the morning train from Petersburg, there was a lady closely vailed, in the same car with ourselves....

...licentious Byron wrote the following lines: " My days are in the yellow leaf, The flowers and fruit of love are gone ; The worm, the canker, and the grief, Are mine alone." Near the end of his days, " Paul the aged" wrote to a young minister whom he greatly loved as follows...

...move ; Yet, though 1 cannot be beloved, Still let me love! 2. " My days are in the yellow leaf; 3. " The fire that on my bosom preys Is lone as some volcanic isle; No torch is kindled at its blaze — À funeral pile ! 4. " The hope, the fear, the jealous care, The exalted portion of the pain And...

...though I cannot be beloved, Still let me love. My days are in the yellow leaf, The flowers and fruits of love are gone, The worm, the canker, and the grief, Are mine alone. The fire that in my bosom preys Is like to some volcanic isle, No torch is kindled at its blaze ; — A funeral pile....

...though I cannot be beloved, Still let me love. My days are in the yellow leaf, The flowers and fruits of love are gone ; The worm, the canker, and the grief, Are mine alone. The fire that in my bosom preys Is like to some volcanic isle : No torch is kindled at its blaze — A funeral pile....

...though I canot be beloved, Still let me love." " My days are in the yellow leaf; The flowers and fruits of love are gone ; The worm, the canker, and the grief Are mine alone." Such was the harassed state of Lord Byron, at the epoch which seemed to promise him a crowded succession...

...live to sing with the licentious poet, — " My days are as the yellow leaf ; The flowers and fruit of love are gone ; The worm, the canker, and the grief Are mine alone." But before sin had stamped its seal upon the heart, or crime had discolored the pages of the daily...

...find you there ? Poor Byron exclaims : " My days are in the sere and yellow leaf; The fruit and flower of love are gone. The worm, the canker, and the grief Are left to me alone." Some do not begin to know their spiritual poverty, until they lose their earthly...

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