Like presentiment of danger,
Though the sky no shadow flings;
Or that inner sense, still stranger,
Of unseen, unuttered things?
Is it? oh! can no one tell me,
No one show sufficient cause
Why our likings and dislikings
Have their own instinctive laws?
854
The Bitterness of Estrangement.—To be estranged from one whom we have tenderly and constantly loved, is one of the bitterest trials the heart can ever know.
—Prynne.
855
There is no place where weeds do not grow, and there is no heart where errors are not to be found.
856
We open the hearts of others when we open our own.