So, on the idle dreams of youth, Breaks the loud trumpet-call of truth,
Bids each fair vision pass away, Like landscape on the lake that lay, As
fair, as flitting, and as frail, As that which fled the Autumn gale.--For
ever dead to fancy's eye Be each gay form that glided by, While dreams of
love and lady's charms Give place to honour and to arms!
In sober prose, as perhaps these verses intimate less decidedly, the
transient idea of Miss Cecilia Stubbs passed from Captain Waverley's
heart amid the turmoil which his new destinies excited. She appeared,
indeed, in full splendour in her father's pew upon the Sunday when he
attended service for the last time at the old parish church, upon which
occasion, at the request of his uncle and Aunt Rachel, he was induced
(nothing both, if the truth must be told) to present himself in full
uniform.
There is no better antidote against entertaining too high an opinion of
others than having an excellent one of ourselves at the very same time.
Miss Stubbs had indeed summoned up every assistance which art could
afford to beauty; but, alas! hoop, patches, frizzled locks, and a new
mantua of genuine French silk, were lost upon a young officer of dragoons
who wore for the first time his gold-laced hat, jack-boots, and
broadsword.
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