I'll Be As Dirty As I Please,

She Bounded Before Me, And Returned To My Side, And Was Off Again Like A Young Greyhound; And, At First, I Found Plenty Of Entertaiment In Listening To The Larks Singing Far And Near; And Enjoying The Sweet, Warm Sunshine; And Watching Her, My Pet, And My Delight, With Her Golden Ringlets Flying Loose Behind, And Her Bright Cheek, As Soft And Pure In Its Bloom, As A Wild Rose, And Her Eyes Radiant With Cloudless Pleasure. She Was A Happy Creautre, And An Angel In Those Those Days. It Is A Pity She Could Not Stay Content.

That Is How I'm Loved! Well, Never Mind. That Is Not My Heathcliff. I Shall Love Mine Yet; And Take Him With Me: He's In My Soul.

Love Is Like The Wild Rose-briar; Friendship Like The Holly-tree. The Holly Is Dark When The Rose-briar Blooms, But Which Will Bloom Most Constantly?

A Heaven So Clear, An Earth So Calm, So Sweet, So Soft, So Hushed An Air; And, Deepening Still The Dreamlike Charm, Wild Moor-sheep Feeding Everywhere.

I Got The Sexton, Who Was Digging Linton's Grave, To Remove The Earth Off Her Coffin Lid, And I Opened It. I Thought, Once, I Would Have Stayed There, When I Saw Her Face Again - It Is Hers Yet - He Had Hard Work To Stir Me; But He Said It Would Change, If The Air Blew On It.