"A stream of water, crystal bright,
Flows down through meadows green,
Where lilies, shining in the light,
Like twinkling starlets gleam.
"And roses blow, and roses glow,
While birds in every tree
Are singing loud, are singing low,
'In Paradise are we.'
"Here, gently blows the soft, sweet wind;
Bright flowers grow all around;
Men wake, as from a dream, to find
They tread on holy ground.
"In blissful happiness they rove,
At peace with each and all;
United now in bonds of love,
Freed from the grave's dark pall.
"All want and weariness are o'er,
All sorrow and all pain;
Their rapture gathers more and more;
The sick are well again."
After Clarissa had finished her recitation, no sound broke the stillness for a long time; Nora seemed lost in thought. "Clarissa," she said at last, "that is a beautiful poem, and makes me long to go."
"Yes; go willingly, go gladly, dear child," replied Clarissa, with tears in her eyes. "Then you can wander joyfully among the bright flowers, and sing:
"'Our rapture gathers more and more;
The sick are well again.'
"And we shall soon join you there, your mamma and I—"
At this moment the mother entered, and Clarissa stopped suddenly; for she knew well that Mrs. Stanhope could not endure the thought of losing little Nora, even though her child were called to heaven; but the mother had heard enough of what had been said, and looked at the child with renewed anxiety. Nora certainly looked very pale and weary; and, at her mother's request, she let herself be carried at once to bed in Clarissa's strong and tender arms.