THE NIGHT.
The night--the night--the solemn night!
The silent time of thought;
The kingdom of the pale moonlight
And mem'ry, when things gone and bright
Are back to mortals brought.
The night--the night--the brilliant night
Clothed in her starry robe:
When sweet to Hope's ecstatic sight,
Come future dreams that day's hard light
Had banished from the globe.
The night--the night--the peaceful night!
The pause, when each calm joy,
Which Time, that oft unpitying wight,
Has spared or granted in his flight,
Is known without alloy.
The night--the night--how dear the night!
Since now its dreams are sweet;
Since Hope and Love have made it bright,
And changing darkness into light,
Have bade its shadows fleet.
"Take another sheet of paper, my dear boy," said Mr. Somers, when he saw that I had done, "and be kind enough to write a note for me." I did as he requested, when, to the surprise of Emily, and myself, he dictated a letter to the chaplain of the embassy, expressing his wish that he would perform the marriage ceremony between his daughter and myself on the morning of the Thursday following. It was then Tuesday, and a few words of astonishment rather than opposition broke from Emily's lips, but he added at once, "Let it be so, my dear child! It is your father's particular request."
Emily said no more; but hid her eyes for a moment on his bosom, and the note was dispatched. With the greatest possible privacy the ceremony was performed, and Mr. Somers, who had made an effort to be present, was lifted into the carriage, and proceeded with us to a house we had taken for the time, in the Val de Montmorency. The next day he appeared greatly better; but at night, about half an hour after he had left us, his servant came suddenly to call us, and, running to his room with Emily, we found him with the last breath of life hanging on his lips. All medical aid proved vain, and when it was all over, Emily and I both felt that it must have been some presentiment of approaching fate that had caused him to hurry our marriage.
Emily has now been long my own, linked to me for life by that sweet indissoluble bond which no two hearts worthy of happiness ever wished less firm and permanent than it is. Changes may come over my destiny, misfortunes may fall upon me again, but I look calmly on to the future; and fear not that such sorrows will ever darken the autumn of my days as those which frowned upon their spring, and which it has been my task to detail in the foregoing pages.[[23]]