Sir Walter Scott

St. Leon raised his kindling eye,
And lifts the sparkling cup on high;
"I drink to one," read more

St. Leon raised his kindling eye,
And lifts the sparkling cup on high;
"I drink to one," he said,
"Whose image never may depart,
Deep graven on this grateful heart,
Till memory be dead."
. . . .
St. Leon paused, as if he would
Not breathe her name in careless mood
Thus lightly to another;
Then bent his noble head, as though
To give the word the reverence due,
And gently said, "My mother!"

Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive!

Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive!

Hard toil can roughen form and face,
And want call quench the eye's bright grace.

Hard toil can roughen form and face,
And want call quench the eye's bright grace.

A friend always loves, but he who loves is not always a friend.

A friend always loves, but he who loves is not always a friend.

It [true love] is the secret sympathy,
The silver link, the silken tie,
Which heart to heart, read more

It [true love] is the secret sympathy,
The silver link, the silken tie,
Which heart to heart, and mind to mind
In body and in soul can bind.