Nor fear the destiny I did not make:
Though earthly joy grow dim—though pleasure waneth—
This thou hath taught thy child, that God remaineth!’
“And from her mother’s fond protecting side
She went into the world, a youthful bride.”
Fain would we linger longer among the brilliant creations of Mrs. Norton’s genius; but, like her own beautiful sleepers, our “dream” is broken, and we must return from fairy-land to encounter “the rude world.”
| [2] | The Dream and other poems, by the Honorable Mrs. Norton—Dedicated to Her Grace, the Duchess of Sutherland. “We have an human heart All mortal thoughts confess a common home.” Shelley. London. Henry Colburn, Publisher, Great Marlborough street, 1840. |