“I wish you and I had drunk that love potion,” he said. ‘The old man who lives here, idiot. "Before you go, bring me the bottle of pineapple rum I opened yesterday. “I’m not gentle. ‘I believe that. It towered up high above the level of the pass, thousands of feet, still, shining, and white, and below, thousands of feet below, was a floor of little woolly clouds. I didn’t get it, why she put on the innocent act. Dare we look back upon the darkened vista, and, in imagination retrace the path we have trod? With how many vain hopes is it shaded! with how many good resolutions, never fulfilled, is it paved! Where are the dreams of ambition in which, twelve years ago, we indulged? Where are the aspirations that fired us—the passions that consumed us then? Has our success in life been commensurate with our own desires—with the anticipations formed of us by others? Or, are we not blighted in heart, as in ambition? Has not the loved one been estranged by doubt, or snatched from us by the cold hand of death? Is not the goal, towards which we pressed, further off than ever—the prospect before us cheerless as the blank behind?—Enough of this.
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This video was uploaded to lewoagencies.com on 13-05-2024 22:04:48
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