But often dream’d and saw the farm by night;
The boarded room that she had kept so neat,
And all her roses in the window-seat;
The pear-tree shade, the jasmine’s lovely gloom, 490
With its long twigs that blossom’d in the room;
But she was happy, and the tears that fell }
As she was writing had no grief to tell; }
We weep when we are glad, we sigh when we are well.” }
A bill inclosed, that they beheld with pain
And indignation, they return’d again;