Genre Erotic. Page - 3
before. Mr. Crabbe was as dead as mutton, but Mr. Crabbe continued to write moral stories in rhymed couplets. I have read desultorily the writings of the younger generation. It may be that among them a more fervid Keats, a more ethereal Shelley, has already published numbers the world will willingly remember. I cannot tell. I admire their polish -- their youth is already so accomplished that it seems absurd to speak of promise -- I marvel at the felicity of their style; but with all their copiousness (their vocabulary suggests that they fingered Roget's Thesaurus in their cradles) they say nothing to me: to my mind they know too much and feel too obviously; I cannot stomach the heartiness with which they slap me on the back or the emotion with which they hurl themselves on my bosom; their passion seems to me a little anaemic and their dreams a trifle dull. I do not like them. I am on the shelf. I will continue to write moral stories in rhymed couplets. But I should be thrice a fool if I did it for a
nd fits of creative energy. And then its pleasure, its repose,are an exhausting debauch, swarthy and black with blows, white withintoxication, or yellow with indigestion. It lasts but two days, butit steals to-morrow's bread, the week's soup, the wife's dress, thechild's wretched rags. Men, born doubtless to be beautiful--for allcreatures have a relative beauty--are enrolled from their childhoodbeneath the yoke of force, beneath the rule of the hammer, the chisel,the loom, and have been promptly vulcanized. Is not Vulcan, with hishideousness and his strength, the emblem of this strong and hideousnation--sublime in its mechanical intelligence, patient in its season,and once in a century terrible, inflammable as gunpowder, and ripewith brandy for the madness of revolution, with wits enough, in fine,to take fire at a captious word, which signifies to it always: Goldand Pleasure! If we comprise in it all those who hold out their handsfor an alms, for lawful wages, or the five francs that are granted
had ever beheld, that lovely modesty with which she received him, that softness in her look and sighs, upon the melancholy occasion of this honor that was done by so great a man as Oroonoko, and a prince of whom she had heard such admirable things; the awfulness wherewith she received him, and the sweetness of her words and behavior while he staid, gained a perfect conquest over his fierce heart, and made him feel the victor could be subdued. So that having made his first compliments, and presented her an hundred and fifty slaves in fetters, he told her with his eyes that he was not insensible of her charms; while Imoinda, who wished for nothing more than so glorious a conquest, was pleased to believe she understood that silent language of new-born love; and, from that moment, put on all her additions to beauty.
The prince returned to court with quite another humor than before; and though he did not speak much of the fair Imoinda, he had the pleasure to hear all his followers speak of nothing but the
uld this well have been otherwise. Cast in a mould peculiar to the finest physical examples of those Englishmen in whom the Saxon strain would seem not at all to partake of any Norman or other admixture, he showed in face that humane look of reposeful good nature which the Greek sculptor in some instances gave to his heroic strong man, Hercules. But this again was subtly modified by another and pervasive quality. The ear, small and shapely, the arch of the foot, the curve in mouth and nostril, even the indurated hand dyed to the orange-tawny of the toucan's bill, a hand telling alike of the halyards and tar-bucket; but, above all, something in the mobile expression, and every chance attitude and movement, something suggestive of a mother eminently favored by Love and the Graces; all this strangely indicated a lineage in direct contradiction to his lot. The mysteriousness here became less mysterious through a matter- of-fact elicited when Billy, at the capstan, was being formally mustered into the service. Ask
Prelude
Je Ne Parle Pas Francais
Bliss
The Wind Blows
Psychology
Pictures
The Man Without A Temperament
Mr. Reginald Peacock's Day
Sun And Moon
Feuille D'album
A Dill Pickle
The Little Governess
Revelations
The Escape
e those words were written below his signaturethereon, and another his 'clearance-certificate'. The third wasKim's birth-certificate. Those things, he was used to say, in hisglorious opium-hours, would yet make little Kimball a man. On noaccount was Kim to part with them, for they belonged to a greatpiece of magic - such magic as men practised over yonder behindthe Museum, in the big blue-and-white Jadoo-Gher - the MagicHouse, as we name the Masonic Lodge. It would, he said, all comeright some day, and Kim's horn would be exalted between pillars -monstrous pillars - of beauty and strength. The Colonel himself,riding on a horse, at the head of the finest Regiment in theworld, would attend to Kim - little Kim that should have beenbetter off than his father. Nine hundred first-class devils,whose God was a Red Bull on a green field, would attend to Kim,if they had not forgotten O'Hara - poor O'Hara that was gang-foreman on the Ferozepore line. Then he would weep bitterly inthe broken rush c
ck. That is nonsense. If I marry a charming girl like Gwendolen, and she is the only girl I ever saw in my life that I would marry, I certainly won't want to know Bunbury.
Algernon. Then your wife will. You don't seem to realise, that in married life three is company and two is none.
Jack. [Sententiously.] That, my dear young friend, is the theory that the corrupt French Drama has been propounding for the last fifty years.
Algernon. Yes; and that the happy English home has proved in half the time.
Jack. For heaven's sake, don't try to be cynical. It's perfectly easy to be cynical.
Algernon. My dear fellow, it isn't easy to be anything nowadays. There's such a lot of beastly competition about. [The sound of an electric bell is heard.] Ah! that must be Aunt Augusta. Only relatives, or creditors, ever ring in that Wagnerian manner. Now, if I get her out of the way for ten minutes, so that you can have an opportunity for proposing to Gwendolen, may I dine with you to-night at Wi
very dress might serve as a pall for your coffin.
And I felt life rising within me like a subterranean lake, expanding and overflowing; my blood leaped fiercely through my arteries; my long-restrained youth suddenly burst into active being, like the aloe which blooms but once in a hundred years, and then bursts into blossom with a clap of thunder.
What could I do in order to see Clarimonde once more? I had no pretext to offer for desiring to leave the seminary, not knowing any person in the city. I would not even be able to remain there but a short time, and was only waiting my assignment to the curacy which I must thereafter occupy. I tried to remove the bars of the window; but it was at a fearful height from the ground, and I found that as I had no ladder it would be useless to think of escaping thus. And, furthermore, I could descend thence only by night in any event, and afterward how should I be able to find my way through the inextricable labyrinth of streets? All these difficulties, which
Many songs, poems, and letters have been inspired by love. Whether you are single, married, divorced, or part of a community you can know for yourself what God says about love, sex, and relationships.