The Clock Strikes Off The Hollow Half-hours

Every Leaf Speaks Bliss To Me, Fluttering From The Autumn Tree.

Worthless As Wither'd Weeds.

Alas, For The Effects Of Bad Tea And Bad Temper!

Oh, Cathy! Oh, My Life! How Can I Bear It?" Was The First Sentence He Uttered, In A Tone That Did Not Seek To Disguise His Despair. And Now He Stared At Her So Earnestly That I Thought The Very Intensity Of His Gaze Would Bring Tears Into His Eyes; But They Burned With Anguish: They Did Not Melt.

I See Heaven's Glories Shine And Faith Shines Equal.