The day drags through, though storms keep out the sun;
And thus the heart will break, yet brokenly live on.

Byron.—Childe Harold, Canto III. Stanza 32.

HEART.—Leap hearts to lips, and in our kisses meet.

Fletcher.—Love’s Cure, Act III. Scene 2.

The precious porcelain of human clay.

Byron.—Don Juan, Canto IV. Stanza 11.

Who made the heart, ’tis He alone
Decidedly can try us,
He knows each chord—its various tone,
Each spring its various bias:
Then at the balance let’s be mute,
We never can adjust it;
What’s done we partly may compute,
But know not what’s resisted.

Burns.—Address to the Unco Guid, Verse 8.


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