Page:Records of Woman.pdf/82

74

And life return’d, Life, but with all its memories of the dead, To Edith's heart; and well the sufferer learn'd Her task of meek endurance, well she wore The chasten'd grief that humbly can adore, Midst blinding tears. But unto that old pair, Ev'n as a breath of spring's awakening air, Her presence was; or as a sweet wild tune Bringing back tender thoughts, which all too soon Depart with childhood. Sadly they had seen A daughter to the land of spirits go, And ever from that time her fading mien, And voice, like winds of summer, soft and low, Had haunted their dim years; but Edith's face Now look'd in holy sweetness from her place, And they again seem'd parents. Oh! the joy, The rich, deep blessedness—tho' earth's alloy, Fear, that still bodes, be there—of pouring forth The heart's whole power of love, its wealth and worth