"Sad soul, long harboring fears and woes
Within a haunted breast.
Haste but to meet your lowly Lord,
And he shall give you rest.
"Into his commonwealth alike
Are ills and blessings thrown.
Bear you your neighbors' loads; and
* * * * *
"Yield only up His price, your heart,
Into God's loving hold,--
He turns with heavenly alchemy
Your lead of life to gold.
"Some needful pangs endure in peace,
Nor yet for freedom pant,--
He cuts the bane you cleave to off,
Then ..."
The rest was torn away. "'And,'" repeated I, impatiently,--"'Then'!
'_And_--_then_'--what?" There was no answer, or at least I heard none;
but the verses, so far as they went, struck my excited fancy as a kind
of preternatural confirmation of the faint outline of life and duty
which I had been sketching. I marked the date of the day upon the white
margin with my pencil, and took the paper with me as a memento of the
time and place, trimmed its torn edges carefully, and laid it in Fanny's
little Bible.
CHAPTER V.
The next morning, at breakfast, Dr. Physick said: "You did me a good
office, Katy, by singing me to sleepiness last night.
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