Ah! how we cherish it
in our hearts, and how it comes at our beck and call to thrill us
through and through and make us thank God that we have lived, and
wonder in our hearts why he has given poor undeserving us so much.
After we arrived at the summer-house, Jane listened, half the time in
tears, while I told her all about Mary's flight.
Shall I ever forget that summer day? A sweet briar entwined our
enchanted bower, and, when I catch its scent even now, time-vaulting
memory carries me back, making years seem as days, and I see it all as
I saw the light of noon that moment--and all was Jane. The softly
lapping river, as it gently sought the sea, sang in soothing cadence
of naught but Jane; the south wind from his flowery home breathed
zephyr-voiced her name again, and, as it stirred the rustling leaves
on bush and tree, they whispered back the same sweet strain; and
every fairy voice found its echo in my soul; for there it was as 'twas
with me, "Jane! Jane! Jane!" I have heard men say they would not live
their lives over and take its meager grains of happiness, in such
infinite disproportion to its grief and pain, but, as for me, thanks
to one woman, I almost have the minutes numbered all along the way,
and know them one from the other; and when I sit alone to dream, and
live again some portion of the happy past, I hardly know what time to
choose or incident to dwell upon, my life is so much crowded with them
all.
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