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He whistles as he goes, light-hearted wretch,
Cold and yet cheerful; messenger of grief
Perhaps to thousands, read more
He whistles as he goes, light-hearted wretch,
Cold and yet cheerful; messenger of grief
Perhaps to thousands, and of joy to some.
Soon as thy letters trembling I unclose,
That well-known name awakens all my woes.
Soon as thy letters trembling I unclose,
That well-known name awakens all my woes.
I have only made this letter rather long because I have not had
time to make it shorter.
read more
I have only made this letter rather long because I have not had
time to make it shorter.
[Fr., Je n'ai fait celle-ci plus longue que parceque je n'ai pas
eu le loisir de la faire plus courte.]
Good-bye--my paper's out so nearly,
I've only room for, Yours sincerely.
Good-bye--my paper's out so nearly,
I've only room for, Yours sincerely.
Line after line my gushing eye o'erflow,
Led thro' a said variety of woe:
Now warm in read more
Line after line my gushing eye o'erflow,
Led thro' a said variety of woe:
Now warm in love, now with'ring in my bloom,
Lost in a convent's solitary gloom!
The welcome news is in the letter found;
The carrier's not commission'd to expound;
It speaks itself, read more
The welcome news is in the letter found;
The carrier's not commission'd to expound;
It speaks itself, and what it does contain,
In all things needful to be known is plain.
The postman always rings twice.
The postman always rings twice.
I will touch
My mouth unto the leaves, caressingly;
And so wilt thou. Thus, from these lips read more
I will touch
My mouth unto the leaves, caressingly;
And so wilt thou. Thus, from these lips of mine
My message will go kissingly to thine,
With more than Fancy's load of luxury,
And prove a true love-letter.
Letters, from absent friends, extinguish fear,
Unite division, and draw distance near;
Their magic force each silent read more
Letters, from absent friends, extinguish fear,
Unite division, and draw distance near;
Their magic force each silent wish conveys,
And wafts embodied though, a thousand ways:
Could souls to bodies write, death's pow'r were mean,
For minds could then meet minds with heav'n between.