Page:Traits and Trials.pdf/123

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At last she rather guess'd than learnt, And with a graver tone She said, "Oh rather thank thy God,    My lot is not thine own.

"How would my weary feet rejoice    Like thine to walk and run Over the soft and fragrant grass,     Beneath yon cheerful sun.

"And yet I trust to God's good will    My spirit is resign'd; Though sore my sickness, it is borne     At least with patient mind.

"Though noble be my father's name,    And vast my father's wealth; He would give all, could he but give     His only child thy health!

"Ah, judge not by the outside show    Of this world, vain and frail—" Still wept the child; but now she wept To watch a cheek so pale.

The lady Marian's voice grew faint, Her hour of strength was o'er; She whisper'd, "Come to-morrow morn,    And I will tell thee more."

Next morning Edith sought the hall;— They shew'd her Marian laid Upon a couch where many a year That gentle child had pray'd.