Had my lot, when she left me, been still the steepings of bitterness, the stings of penury, the moody silence of hope, the damp and chill of sunless and Aidless years, which rust the very iron of the soul away; had my lot been thus, as it had been, I could have borne her death, I could have looked upon her grave, and wept not,-nay, I could have comforted my own struggles with the memory of her escape; but thus, at the very moment of prosperity, to leave the altered and promising earth, 'to house with darkness and with death;' no little gleam of sunshine, no brief recompense for the agonizing past, no momentary respite between tears and the tomb.
"The Disowned, Complete"
Edward Bulwer-Lytton
The rest were made up of unfortunate women of the vilest and most ragged description, aged itinerants, with features seared with famine, bleared eyes, dropping jaws, shivering limbs, and all the mortal signs of hopeless and Aidless, and, worst of all, breadless infirmity.
"Pelham, Complete"
Edward Bulwer-Lytton Last Updated: March 16, 2009
Over all Swept the long surges, and a gurgling sound Told where some wretch, that strove in vain to call For aid, where all were Aidless, through the spray Emerging, gasp'd, and then was whirl'd away.
"The Poetical Works of Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton, Bart. M.P."
Edward Bulwer Lytton