“Now
I have no hope that does not dream for thee;
I have no joy that is not shared by thee;
I have no fear that does not dread for thee.”

The Ancestress (Spoken by Bertha, of Jaromir)
The Venetian Bracelet (1829)

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English poet and novelist 1802–1838

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“Sweet Pauline, could I buy thee
With gold or its worth,
I would not deny thee
The wealth of the earth.
They talk of the pleasure
That riches bestow —
Without thee, my treasure,
What joy could I know?”

Letitia Elizabeth Landon (1802–1838) English poet and novelist

The London Literary Gazette (10th January 1835) Versions from the German (Second Series.) 'Pauline's Price'— Goethe.
Translations, From the German

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“Because of thee, the land of dreams
Becomes a gathering place of fears”

Lionel Johnson (1867–1902) English poet

The Dark Angel (1895)
Context: p>Through thee, the gracious Muses turn,
To Furies, O mine Enemy!
And all the things of beauty burn
With flames of evil ecstasy.Because of thee, the land of dreams
Becomes a gathering place of fears:
Until tormented slumber seems
One vehemence of useless tears.</p

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“I would have rather been a slave
In fettered bondage by thy side,
Than shared in all the world could give,
Had it not given thee beside.”

Letitia Elizabeth Landon (1802–1838) English poet and novelist

(1st October 1825) Stanzas
The London Literary Gazette, 1825

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“When I first discovered for myself how near was the King in His beauty I thought I would be the singer of the happiest songs. Forgive me, Spirit of my spirit, for this, that I have found it easier to read the mystery told in tears and understood Thee better in sorrow than in joy; that, though I would not, I have made the way seem thorny, and have wandered in too many byways, imagining myself into moods which held Thee not.”

George William Russell (1867–1935) Irish writer, editor, critic, poet, and artistic painter

Preface to Collected Poems (1913)
Context: When I first discovered for myself how near was the King in His beauty I thought I would be the singer of the happiest songs. Forgive me, Spirit of my spirit, for this, that I have found it easier to read the mystery told in tears and understood Thee better in sorrow than in joy; that, though I would not, I have made the way seem thorny, and have wandered in too many byways, imagining myself into moods which held Thee not. I should have parted the true from the false, but I have not yet passed away from myself who am in the words of this book. Time is a swift winnower, and that he will do quickly for me.

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