My Soul Is Awakened, My Spirit Is

You Need Not Fear Me, For I Not Only Should Think It Wrong To Marry A Man That Was Deficient In Sense Or In Principle, But I Should Never Be Tempted To Do It; For I Could Not Like Him, If He Were Ever So Handsome, And Ever So Charming, In Other Respects; I Should Hate Him—despise Him—pity Him—anything But Love Him. My Affections Not Only Ought To Be Founded On Approbation, But They Will And Must Be So: For, Without Approving, I Cannot Love. It Is Needless To Say, I Ought To Be Able To Respect And Honour The Man I Marry, As Well As Love Him, For I Cannot Love Him Without.

I Love The Silent Hour Of Night, For Blissful Dreams May Then Arise, Revealing To My Charmed Sight What May Not Bless My Waking Eyes.

What A Fool You Must Be," Said My Head To My Heart, Or My Sterner To My Softer Self.

No; For Instead Of Delivering Myself Up To The Full Enjoyment Of The As Others Do, I Am Always Troubling My Head About How I Could Produce The Same Effect Upon Canvas; And As That Can Never Be Done, It Is Mere Vanity And Vexation Of Spirit.

There Is Such A Thing As Looking Through A Person's Eyes Into The Heart, And Learning More Of The Height, And Breadth, And Depth Of Another's Soul In One Hour Than It Might Take You A Lifetime To Discover, If He Or She Were Not Disposed To Reveal It, Or If You Had Not The Sense To Understand It.