"You are not going already?" said the colonel.
"If you will excuse us," answered the schoolmaster. "We are early birds."
"Well, will you dine with us this day week?"
"With much pleasure," answered both in a breath.
It was clear both that the colonel liked their simple honest company, and that he saw they might do his daughter good; for her face looked very earnest and sweet; and the clearness that precedes rain was evident in the atmosphere of her eyes.
After their departure we soon separated; and I retired to my room full of a new idea, which I thought, if well carried out, might be of still further benefit to the invalid.
But before I went to bed, I had made a rough translation of the following hymn of Luther's, which I have since completed—so far at least as the following is complete. I often find that it helps to keep good thoughts before the mind, to turn them into another shape of words.
From heaven above I come to you,
To bring a story good and new:
Of goodly news so much I bring—
I cannot help it, I must sing.
To you a child is come this morn,
A child of holy maiden born;
A little babe, so sweet and mild—
It is a joy to see the child!
'Tis little Jesus, whom we need
Us out of sadness all to lead:
He will himself our Saviour be,
And from all sinning set us free.