The light that beams from woman's eye.
And sparkles through her tear,
Responds to that impassion'd sigh
Which love delights to hear.
'Tis the sweet language of the soul,
On which a voice is hung,
More eloquent than ever stole
From saint's or poet's tongue.
_Forget Me Not_--1829.
* * * * *
"NIMIUM NE CREDE COLORI."
Jack Taylor once said to a water-drinking person, with a purple face,
"better things might _prima facie_ be expected."
* * * * *