Page:The Venetian Bracelet.pdf/112

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All was association with some link Whose fine electric throb was in the mind. I paid my price for this—'twas happiness. My wings have melted in their eager flight, And gleams of heaven have only made me feel Its distance from our earth more forcibly. My feelings grow less fresh, my thoughts less kind: My youth has been too lonely, too much left To struggle for itself; and this world is A northern clime, where ev'ry thing is chill'd. I speak of my own feelings—I can judge Of others but by outward show, and that Is falser than the actor's studied part. We dress our words and looks in borrow'd robes: The mind is as the face—for who goes forth In public walks without a veil at least?