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self-discipline. Her poetic abstractions of excellence must be converted into tangible duties, and her craving sensibilities must nourish, by patient tenderness, the love that querulous demands would weary and repel. She must not only minister to his domestic comfort and enjoyment, but she should create in herself new tastes and faculties, and task all the deeper energies of her own nature, to meet the nobler necessities of his heart and mind, that no other source may be found to supply to him the aspirations and sympathies born of her intellect and tenderness.
When a union, founded upon sympathy and taste, is sanctified by religious faith, and “made sure and steadfast” by a “hope of life everlasting," the “spring" is then fed from a “fountain ” whose “ living waters” will nourish the roots of the soul's nobler affections
• Till all be made immortal.”
It is not that my lot is low,
In woods and glens I love to roam,
Yet when the silent evening sighs,
The autumn leaf is sear and dead;
the water's bed :
The woods and winds, with sullen wail,
Yet in my dreams a form I view,
O, ART thou still on earth, my love ?
My only love! Or smiling in a brighter home,
Far, far above i
O, is thy sweet voice fled, my love ?
Thy light step gone? And art thou not, in earth or heaven,
Still, still my own?
I see thee with thy gleaming hair,
In midnight dreams! But cold, and clear, and spirit-like,
Thy soft eye seems.
Peace in thy saddest hour, my love,
Dwell on thy brow! But something mournfully divine
There shineth now !
And silent ever is thy lip,
And pale thy cheek : 0, art thou earth's, or art thou heaven's?
Speak to me, speak!
I Ask not golden stores of wealth,
Or rank, and pomp, and state ;
The mansion of the great.
brow Fame's laurel wreath should twine ; Or that on history's glowing page
My name may proudly shine.
I envy not the calm retreat,
From worldly noise and strife,
The simple joys of life.
My peaceful days may glide,
The deep, unruffled tide.
But this I ask; that while I live,
I may not live in vain ;
And soothe the mourner's pain;
The poor man's struggles aid;
From virtue's path have strayed.
I THREW a bubble to the sea;