"they twine and weave the roses of heaven into the life of men; it is
they that unite us in the fascinating bonds of love; and, concealed in
the modest veil of the graces, they cherish carefully the external fire
of delicate feeling with holy hands." "Win her and wear her, if you
can," says Shelley; "she is the most delightful of God's
creatures--Heaven's best gift--man's joy and pride in prosperity--man's
support and comforter in affliction." "Her passions are made of the
finest parts of pure love," says Shakspeare. "Her commands are caresses,
her menaces are tears," says Rousseau. "She was