Kate dearest, I will no longer disturb your solitude but with a joyful Alleluia. All here love you dearly, beloved sister of my life.
TO BE CONTINUED.
When one is pure as at her age
The last day is the fairest.
[158] “There never stirs a sound which inspires thought. One can carry on a reverie to its end, and over again. There, near the dead, Peace and Melancholy make their abode, and the meditative soul, amid the waves of life, believes itself close upon the shore.”
[159] “Even as a lamb, seeking the wild-thyme on which he browses, leaves a little of his wool on the bushes along his way, so, on the pathway of life, is there a wayfarer who leaves not as he passes some fragment of his heart?”—Violeau.