“The gentle maid, whose hapless tale,these melancholy pages speak;say, gracious lady, shall she failTo draw the tear a down from thy cheek?”
Quote Analysis:
In this quote by Horace Walpole, the speaker is asking the reader to empathize with the unfortunate plight of the gentle maid whose story is being told in the pages. The use of the word "hapless" evokes a sense of pity and tragedy surrounding the maiden's story. The speaker is appealing to the reader's compassion, asking if the story of this maid is not enough to elicit tears. This quote highlights the power of storytelling to evoke emotions and make readers reflect on the suffering of others.
Relevance in Modern Times
In this excerpt from Horace Walpole's work, the essence of empathy and emotion is conveyed through the character of the gentle maid. The ability to evoke tears and compassion in the reader is a timeless aspect of storytelling that resonates with audiences even today. It serves as a reminder of the power of storytelling to connect people on a deep emotional level.
Example of Usage
"The gentle maid, whose hapless tale,
these melancholy pages speak;
say, gracious lady, shall she fail
To draw the tear a down from thy cheek?” - Horace Walpole"
Reflection Questions:
As we consider the sorrowful story of the gentle maid described by Horace Walpole, we are prompted to reflect on our own emotions and empathy. How does this tale resonate with you personally? In what ways can we show compassion and support to those who are suffering? Are there any lessons or insights we can draw from this narrative to better understand the complexities of human experience and struggle?
Similar quotes
“She doesn't speak, and I say nothing more. We just stare at each other, letting the tears roll down our cheeks. That's what tears are for, after all. A way for the soul to bleed.”
“let not thy sword skip one:Pity not honour'd age for his white beard;He is an usurer: strike me the counterfeit matron;It is her habit only that is honest,Herself's a bawd: let not the virgin's cheekMake soft thy trenchant sword; for those milk-paps,That through the window-bars bore at men's eyes,Are not within the leaf of pity writ,But set them down horrible traitors: spare not the babe,Whose dimpled smiles from fools exhaust their mercy;Think it a bastard, whom the oracleHath doubtfully pronounced thy throat shall cut,And mince it sans remorse: swear against objects;Put armour on thine ears and on thine eyes;Whose proof, nor yells of mothers, maids, nor babes,Nor sight of priests in holy vestments bleeding,Shall pierce a jot. There's gold to pay soldiers:Make large confusion; and, thy fury spent,Confounded be thyself! Speak not, be gone.”
“I ripped the page from my book - "I don't speak, I'm sorry." - and used it to dry her cheeks, my explanation and apology ran down her face like mascara.”
“This is it, Lake," I say pointing back and forth between us. "It's real now. I'm not walking away from you again. Ever." Her eyes fill with tears. "Promise?" she whispers."I swear. I love you so much." A tear rolls down her cheek. "Say it again," she whispers.”
“I need Thee, O Lord, for a curb on my tongue; when I am tempted to making carping criticisms and cruel judgements, keep me from speaking barbed words that hurt, and in which I find perverted satisfaction. Keep me from unkind words and from unkind silences. Restrain my judgements. Make my criticisms kind, generous, and constructive. Make me sweet inside, that I may be gentle with other people, gentle in the things I say, kind in what I do. Create in me that warmth of mercy that shall enable others to find Thy strength for their weakness, Thy peace for their strife, Thy joy for their sorrow, Thy love for their hatred, Thy compassion for their weakness. In thine own strong name, I pray. Amen.”