Poems . in the was not forgotten. Within her heart was his image,Clothed in the beauty of love and youth, as last she beheld him,Only more beautiful made by his death-like silence and her thoughts of him time entered not, for it was him years had no power; he was not changed, but transfigured;He had become to her heart as one who is dead, and not absent;Patience and abnegation of self, and devotion to others,This was the lesson a life of trial and sorrow had taught was her love diffused, but, like to some odorous spices,Suffered no waste nor loss,
Poems . in the was not forgotten. Within her heart was his image,Clothed in the beauty of love and youth, as last she beheld him,Only more beautiful made by his death-like silence and her thoughts of him time entered not, for it was him years had no power; he was not changed, but transfigured;He had become to her heart as one who is dead, and not absent;Patience and abnegation of self, and devotion to others,This was the lesson a life of trial and sorrow had taught was her love diffused, but, like to some odorous spices,Suffered no waste nor loss, though filling the air with aroma. L 82 EVANGELINE. Other hope had she none, nor wish in life, but to followMeekly, with reverent steps, the sacred feet of her many years she lived as a Sister of Mercy; frequentingLonely and wretched roofs in the crowded lanes of the city,Where distress and want concealed themselves from the sunlight,Where disease and sorrow in garrets languished Night after night, when the world was asleep, as the watchman repeatedLoud, through the gusty streets, that all was well in the city,High at some lonely window he saw the light of her taper. EVANGELINE.
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Keywords: ., bookauthorlongfellowhenrywadswo, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1850
