Which placed it there: and ere that day was ended, That long and anxious day! I learned from One Sent hither by my Husband to impart

The heavy news,—that he had joined a Troop

Of Soldiers, going to a distant Land.

-He left me thus-he could not gather heart
To take a farewell of me; for he fear'd

That I should follow with my Babes, and sink
Beneath the misery of that wandering Life."

This Tale did Margaret tell with many tears: And when she ended I had little power

To give her comfort, and was glad to take

Such words of hope from her own mouth as served
To chear us both :—but long we had not talked

Ere we built up a pile of better thoughts,
And with a brighter eye she look'd around

As if she had been shedding tears of joy.
We parted. Twas the time of early spring;

I left her busy with her garden tools;

And well remember, o'er that fence she looked,

And, while I paced along the foot-way path,
Called out, and sent a blessing after me,

With tender chearfulness; and with a voice
That seem'd the very sound of happy thoughts.

With

I roved o'er many a hill and many a dale,

my accustomed load; in heat and cold, Through many a wood, and many an open ground,

In sunshine and in shade, in wet and fair,
Drooping, or blithe of heart, as might befal;

My best companions now the driving winds,

And now the " trotting brooks" and whispering trees,

And now the music of my own sad steps,

With many a short-lived thought that pass'd between,
And disappeared.-I journey'd back this way
Towards the wane of Summer; when the wheat
Was yellow; and the soft and bladed grass
Springing afresh had o'er the hay-field spread
Its tender verdure. At the door arrived,

I found that she was absent. In the shade,
Where now we sit, I waited her return.
Her Cottage, then a chearful Object, wore
Its customary look,-only, I thought,

The honeysuckle, crowding round the porch,

Hung down in heavier tufts: and that bright weed,

The yellow stone-crop, suffered to take root
Along the window's edge, profusely grew,
Blinding the lower panes. I turned aside,
And strolled into her garden. It appeared
To lag behind the season, and had lost
Its pride of neatness. From the border lines
Composed of daisy and resplendent thrift,

Flowers straggling forth had on those paths encroached
Which they were used to deck :-Carnations, once
Prized for surpassing beauty, and no less
For the peculiar pains they had required,
Declined their languid heads-without support.
The cumbrous bind-weed, with its wreaths and bells,'
Had twined about her two small rows of pease,
And dragged them to the earth.-Ere this an hour
Was wasted.-Back I turned my restless steps,
And, as I walked before the door, it chanced

A Stranger passed; and, guessing whom I sought,
He said that she was used to ramble far.-
The sun was sinking in the west; and now
I sate with sad impatience. From within.
Her solitary Infant cried aloud;

Then, like a blast that dies away self-stilled,

The voice was silent.

From the bench I rose;

But neither could divert nor soothe my thoughts.

The spot, though fair, was very desolate

The longer I remained more desolate.

And, looking round, I saw the corner stones,
Till then unnotic'd, on either side the door
With dull red stains discolour'd, and stuck o'er
With tufts and hairs of wool, as if the Sheep,
That fed upon the Common, thither came
Familiarly; and found a couching-place
Even at her threshold. Deeper shadows fell

From these tall elms ;-the Cottage-clock struck eight ;

I turned, and saw her distant a few steps.

Her face was pale and thin, her figure too

Was changed. As she unlocked the door, she said,

"It grieves me you have waited here so long,
But, in good truth, I've wandered much of late,
And, sometimes,—to my shame I speak, have need
Of my best prayers to bring me back again."
While on the board she spread our evening meal
She told me,—interrupting not the work
Which gave employment to her listless hands,

That she had parted with her elder Child;

To a kind Master on a distant farm

"I

Now happily apprenticed-" I perceive

You look at me, and you have cause; to-day

I have been travelling far; and many days

About the fields I wander, knowing this
Only, that what I seek I cannot find.

And so I waste my time: for I am changed;
And to myself, said she, have done much wrong
And to this helpless Infant. I have slept
Weeping, and weeping I have waked; my tears
Have flowed as if my body were not such

As others are; and I could never die.

But I am now in mind and in my heart

More easy; and I hope," said she, " that heaven Will give me patience to endure the things

Which I behold at home." It would have grieved

Your very soul to see her; Sir, I feel

The story linger in my heart: I fear

"Tis long and tedious; but my spirit clings
To that
poor Woman:-so familiarly

Do I perceive her manner, and her look,
And presence, and so deeply do I feel

Her goodness, that, not seldom, in my walks