And all the fields look'd lovely in the spring; "But to Domremi wretched was that day, "For there was lamentation, and the voice "Of anguish, and the deeper agony "That spake not. Never will my heart forget "The feelings that shot thro' me, when the sound "Of cheerful music burst upon our ears "Sudden, and from the arms that round their necks Hung close entwined, as in a last embrace, "Friends, brethren, husbands went. "More frequent now Sought I the converse of poor Madelon, "For much she needed now the soothing voice "Some tidings from the war; and as at eve "She with her mother by the cottage door "Her cheek faint flush'd by hope, that made her heart "Seem as it sunk within her. So the days "And weeks and months pass'd on, and when the leaves "Fell in the autumn, a most painful hope "That reason own'd not, that with expectation "Still lingered in her heart, and still at night "Sore with long anguish underneath that blow "She sunk. Then would she sit and think all day 66 Upon the past, and talk of happiness "That never would return, as tho' she found "To sleep more wearying far than wakefulness, "For in the visions of her heart she saw To his own home return'd. Thus day nor night "Reposed she, and she pined and pined away. "Bitter art thou to him that lives in rest "O DEATH! and grievous in the hour of joy "The thought of thy cold dwelling; but thou comest "Most welcome to the wretched, a best friend "To him that wanteth one, a comforter, "For in the grave is † peace. By the bed-side + O Death, how bitter is the remembrance of thee to a man that liveth at rest in his possessions, unto the man that hath nothing to vex him, and that hath prosperity in all things; yea unto him that is yet able to receive meat! O Death, acceptable is thy sentence unto the needy, and unto him whose strength faileth, that is now in the last age, and is vexed with all things, and to him that despaireth, and hath lost patience! Ecclesiasticus, xli. 1. 2. "Of Madelon I sat, when sure she felt "I felt her hand's last pressure. Son of Orleans! "I would not wish to live to know that hour, "When I could think upon a dear friend dead, "And weep not. "I remember as her corse "Went to the grave, there was a lark sprung up "And soaring in the sunshine carol'd loud "A joyful song; and in mine heart I thought "That of the multitude of beings, man "Alone was wretched. "Then my soul awoke, "For it had slumber'd long in happiness, "And never feeling misery, never thought "What others suffer. I, as best I might, "Solaced the keen regret of Elinor; "And much my cares avail'd, and much her son's, "On whom, the only comfort of her age "An ardent youth, who with the kindest cares "By her death-bed together, and no bond "In closer union knits two human hearts "Than fellowship in grief. "It chanc'd as once "Beside the fire of Elinor 1 sat, "The night was comfortless; the loud blast howl'd, "And as we drew around the social hearth, "We heard the rain beat hard: driven by the storm "A warrior mark'd our distant taper's light. "We heapt the fire: the friendly board was spread: "The bowl of hospitality went round. "The storm beats hard;" the stranger cried: "safe hous'd "Pleasant it is to hear the pelting rain. "I too were well content to dwell in peace, "Resting my head upon the lap of Love, |