Through her eye the Immortal shone;
* * * * *
Her eyes' dark charm 'twere vain to tell,
But gaze on that of the gazelle,
It will assist thy fancy well;
As large, as languishingly dark,
But soul beamed forth in every spark
That darted from beneath the lid,
Bright as the jewel of Giamschid,
Yea, soul!

_The Giaour._


So--this feminine farewell
Ends as such partings end, in _no_ departure.

_Sardanapalus, A. 4._




SIR WALTER SCOTT.


Even the most simple and unsuspicious of the female sex have (God
bless them!) an instinctive sharpness of perception in love
matters, which sometimes goes the length of observing partialities