I would give, to call the affluence of that moment back again,
Europe, with her cities, rivers, hills of prey, sheep-sprinkled downs,
Ay, an hundred sheaves of sceptres, ay, a planet's gathered crowns,'
"But I must not write thus, lest I grow ungrateful for the mercies of a gracious Providence. Let me thank my God for his remembrance in the hour of sorest need, and lie down to slumber."
She closed her book, and, dropping softly on her knees before the low curtained couch, leaned her young head, with its dark, clustering curls, against the white cushions, and remained several moments in silent prayer. Then rising, she closed the casements and retired to rest.
CHAPTER XLVIII.
"Come rest in this bosom, my own stricken deer,
Though the herd should fly from thee, thy home is still here.
I know not, I ask not, if guilt's in thy heart;