Reading Compreh...

"There Is No Frigate Like a Book"
There is no frigate like a book
To take us lands away,
Nor any coursers like a page
Of prancing poetry
This traverse may the poorest take
Without oppress of toll;
How frugal is the chariot
That bears a human soul!

"On His Deceased Wife"
Methought I saw my late espoused Saint
Brought to me like Alcestic from the grave,
Whom Jove's great son to her glad husband gave,
Rescu'd from death by force though pale and faint.
Mine as whom wash' t from spot of childbed taint,
Purification in the old law did save,
And such, as yet once more I trust to have
Full sight of her in Heaven without restraint,
Came vested all in white, pure as her mind:
Her face was vail'd, yet to my fancied sight,
Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shin'd
So clear, as in no face with more delight.
But O, as to embrace me she inclined
I wak'd, she fled, and day brought back my night.

Everybody at all addicted to letter writing, without having much to say, which will include a large proportion of the female world at least, must feel with Lady Bertram, that she was out of luck in having such a capital piece of Mansfield news, as the certainty of the Grants going to Bath, occur at a time when she 74215could make no advantage of it, and will admit that it must have been very mortifying to her to see it fall to the share of their thankless son, and treated as concisely possible at the end of a long letter, instead of having it to spread over the largest part of a page of her own - For though Lady Bertram, rather at home in the epistolary line, having early in her marriage, from the 36699want of other employment, and the circumstance of Sir Thomas's being in Parliament, got into the way of making and keeping correspondents, and formed for herself a very creditable, commonplace, 77823amplifying style, so that a very little matter was enough for her; she could not do entirely without any; she must have something to write about, 19238even to her niece, and being so soon to lose all the 61137benefit of Dr. Grant's gouty symptoms and Mrs. Grant's morning calls, it was very hard upon her to be deprived of one of the last epistolary uses she could put them to.
There was a rich amends, however, preparing for her. Lady Bertram's hour of good luck came. Within a few days from the receipt of Edmund's letter, Fanny had one from her aunt, beginning thus:
"My dear Fanny, I take up my pen to communicate some very alarming intelligence, which I make no doubt will give you much concern."

Everybody at all addicted to letter writing, without having much to say, which will include a large proportion of the female world at least, must feel with Lady Bertram, that she was out of luck in having such a capital piece of Mansfield news, as the certainty of the Grants going to Bath, occur at a time when she 74215could make no advantage of it, and will admit that it must have been very mortifying to her to see it fall to the share of their thankless son, and treated as concisely possible at the end of a long letter, instead of having it to spread over the largest part of a page of her own - For though Lady Bertram, rather at home in the epistolary line, having early in her marriage, from the 36699want of other employment, and the circumstance of Sir Thomas's being in Parliament, got into the way of making and keeping correspondents, and formed for herself a very creditable, commonplace, 77823amplifying style, so that a very little matter was enough for her; she could not do entirely without any; she must have something to write about, 19238even to her niece, and being so soon to lose all the 61137benefit of Dr. Grant's gouty symptoms and Mrs. Grant's morning calls, it was very hard upon her to be deprived of one of the last epistolary uses she could put them to.
There was a rich amends, however, preparing for her. Lady Bertram's hour of good luck came. Within a few days from the receipt of Edmund's letter, Fanny had one from her aunt, beginning thus:
"My dear Fanny, I take up my pen to communicate some very alarming intelligence, which I make no doubt will give you much concern."

"Fable"
In heaven
Some little blades of grass
Stood before God.
"What did you do?"
Then all save one of the little blades
Began eagerly to relate
The merits of their lives.
This one stayed a small way behind,
Ashamed.
Presently, God said,
"And what did you do?"
The little blade answered, "O My Lord,
Memory is bitter to me,
For if I did good deeds
I know not of them."
Then God, in all his splendor,
Arose from his throne.
"O best little blade of grass!" he said.

"On His Deceased Wife"
Methought I saw my late espoused Saint
Brought to me like Alcestic from the grave,
Whom Jove's great son to her glad husband gave,
Rescu'd from death by force though pale and faint.
Mine as whom wash' t from spot of childbed taint,
Purification in the old law did save,
And such, as yet once more I trust to have
Full sight of her in Heaven without restraint,
Came vested all in white, pure as her mind:
Her face was vail'd, yet to my fancied sight,
Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shin'd
So clear, as in no face with more delight.
But O, as to embrace me she inclined
I wak'd, she fled, and day brought back my night.

"On His Deceased Wife"
Methought I saw my late espoused Saint
Brought to me like Alcestic from the grave,
Whom Jove's great son to her glad husband gave,
Rescu'd from death by force though pale and faint.
Mine as whom wash' t from spot of childbed taint,
Purification in the old law did save,
And such, as yet once more I trust to have
Full sight of her in Heaven without restraint,
Came vested all in white, pure as her mind:
Her face was vail'd, yet to my fancied sight,
Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shin'd
So clear, as in no face with more delight.
But O, as to embrace me she inclined
I wak'd, she fled, and day brought back my night.

Maman-Nainaine said that when the figs were ripe Babette might go to visit her cousins down on the Bayou-Lafourche where the sugar cane grows. Not that the ripening of figs had the least thing to do with it, but that is the way Maman-Nainaine was.
It seemed to Babette a very long time to wait; for the leaves upon the trees were tender yet, and the figs were like little hard green marbles. But arm rains came along and plenty of strong sunshine, and though Maman Nainaine was as patient as the statue of la Madone, and Babette as restless as a hummingbird, the first thing they both knew it was hot summertime. Every day Babette danced out to where the fig-trees were in a long line against the fence. She walked slowly beneath them, carefully peering between the gnarled, spreading branches. But each time she came disconsolate away again. What she saw there finally was something that made her sing and dance the whole long day. 

Everybody at all addicted to letter writing, without having much to say, which will include a large proportion of the female world at least, must feel with Lady Bertram, that she was out of luck in having such a capital piece of Mansfield news, as the certainty of the Grants going to Bath, occur at a time when she 74215could make no advantage of it, and will admit that it must have been very mortifying to her to see it fall to the share of their thankless son, and treated as concisely possible at the end of a long letter, instead of having it to spread over the largest part of a page of her own - For though Lady Bertram, rather at home in the epistolary line, having early in her marriage, from the 36699want of other employment, and the circumstance of Sir Thomas's being in Parliament, got into the way of making and keeping correspondents, and formed for herself a very creditable, commonplace, 77823amplifying style, so that a very little matter was enough for her; she could not do entirely without any; she must have something to write about, 19238even to her niece, and being so soon to lose all the 61137benefit of Dr. Grant's gouty symptoms and Mrs. Grant's morning calls, it was very hard upon her to be deprived of one of the last epistolary uses she could put them to.
There was a rich amends, however, preparing for her. Lady Bertram's hour of good luck came. Within a few days from the receipt of Edmund's letter, Fanny had one from her aunt, beginning thus:
"My dear Fanny, I take up my pen to communicate some very alarming intelligence, which I make no doubt will give you much concern."

       "Promises Like Pie-Crust"
Promise me no promises,
So will I not promise you:
Keep we both our liberties,
Never false and never true:
Let us hold the die uncast,
Free to come as free to go:
For I cannot know your past,
And of mine what can you know?