He then stepped forward to announce that his horses were in readiness for the invalid and his daughter. But they were no longer necessary. The debilitated frame of Mr. Bertram was exhausted by this last effort of indignant anger, and when he sunk again upon his chair, he expired almost without a struggle or groan. So little alteration did the extinction of the vital spark make upon his external appearance that the screams of his daughter, when she saw his eye fix and felt his pulse stop, first announced his death to the spectators.
CHAPTER XIV
The bell strikes one. We take no note of time
But from its loss. To give it then a tongue
Is wise in man. As if an angel spoke,
I feel the solemn sound.
YOUNG.
The bell strikes one. We take no note of time
But from its loss. To give it then a tongue
Is wise in man. As if an angel spoke,
I feel the solemn sound.
YOUNG.
The bell strikes one. We take no note of time
But from its loss. To give it then a tongue
Is wise in man. As if an angel spoke,
I feel the solemn sound.
YOUNG.
The moral which the poet has rather quaintly deduced from the necessary mode of measuring time may be well applied to our feelings respecting that portion of it which constitutes human life. We observe the aged, the infirm, and those engaged in occupations of immediate hazard, trembling as it were upon the very brink of non-existence, but we derive no lesson from the precariousness of their tenure until it has altogether failed. Then, for a moment at least--
Our hopes and fears Start up alarm’d, and o’er life’s narrow verge Look down--on what? a fathomless abyss, A dark eternity, how surely ours!
Our hopes and fears Start up alarm’d, and o’er life’s narrow verge Look down--on what? a fathomless abyss, A dark eternity, how surely ours!
Our hopes and fears Start up alarm’d, and o’er life’s narrow verge Look down--on what? a fathomless abyss, A dark eternity, how surely ours!