Love shows all changes,—Hate, Ambition, Guile,
Betray no further than the bitter smile;
The lip's least curl, the lightest paleness thrown
Along the govern'd aspect, speak alone
Of deeper passions; and to judge their mien,
He who would see, must be himself unseen.
Byron.
She seem'd so pure, that I thought Heaven borrowed her fair form for virtue's self to wear, to gain her lovers with the sons of men. Yodng.
It is now sixteen or seventeen years since I saw the queen of France, then the dauphiness, at Versailles; and surely never lighted on this orb a more delightful vision.
I saw her, just above the horizon, decorating and cheering the elevated sphere she just began to move in,— glittering like the morning star, full of life, and splendour, and joy. Oh ! what a revolution ! and what a heart must I have to contemplate without emotion that elevation and that fall 1 Little did I dream that, when she added titles of veneration to those of enthusiastic, distant, respectful love, she should ever be obliged to carry the sharp antidote against disgrace concealed in that bosom; little did I dream that I should have lived to see such disasters fall upon her in a nation of men of honour, anil of cavaliers. I thought ten thousand swords must have leaped from their scabbards to avenge even a look that threatened her with insult—but the age of chivalry is gone 1 Burke.
