The Word Of A Gentleman

We Came To The House, And It Is An Old House, Full Of Great Chimneys Where Wood Is Burnt On Ancient Dogs Upon The Hearth, And Grim Portraits (some Of Them With Grim Legends, Too) Lower Distrustfully From The Oaken Panels Of The Walls.

This Reminds Me, Godmother, To Ask You A Serious Question. You Are As Wise As Wise Can Be (having Been Brought Up By The Fairies), And You Can Tell Me This: Is It Better To Have Had A Good Thing And Lost It, Or Never To Have Had It?

If An Enthusiastic, Ardent, And Ambitious Man Marry A Wife On Whose Name There Is A Stain, Which, Though It Originate In No Fault Of Hers, May Be Visited By Cold And Sordid People Upon Her, And Upon His Children Also: And, In Exact Proportion To His Success In The World, Be Cast In His Teeth, And Made The Subject Of Sneers Against Him: He May, No Matter How Generous And Good His Nature, One Day Repent Of The Connection He Formed In Early Life; And She May Have The Pain And Torture Of Knowing That He Does So.

Christmas May Not Bring A Single Thing; Still, It Gives Me A Song To Sing.

For Nature Gives To Every Time And Season Some Beauties Of Its Own; And From Morning To Night, As From The Cradle To The Grave, It Is But A Succession Of Changes So Gentle And Easy That We Can Scarcely Mark Their Progress.