CHAPTER XIII.
And oft with sweet celestial grace,
Soft as the gentle dove,
She gazed upon the infant face
With tenderness and love.
Anonymous.
In the rich bloom of life, ere the heart has made its selection, ere it acknowledges one object the sole partner of its joys and pains, the central sphere of all its hopes, wishes, and fond vibrations; ere the blessed period, when the happy conjugal tie is formed, and the young, tender, and sensitive female feels that she lives but for herself alone; or, if indeed not so wholly insulated, if amidst the regards and lively interest of her kindred; still she will repine until her soul meets with its one dear associate—life will pass away tedious and irksome.
Though doomed to the sameness of solitude, a well-cultivated mind discovers in its own resources an infinite fund of amusement; it may soar in the regions of imagination, taste, and sentiment. The mild voice of religion also whispers, that a placid spirit is to be obtained by resignation, and the mind for a time submits: but wearied at last, it becomes sunk and exhausted by its very efforts to regain composure.
