Page:Female Prose Writers of America.djvu/448

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November, 1838. We could not wish that she should have stayed longer on earth, an exile from her native heaven; yet, as we listen to the soaring strains of her young genius, and are borne upward by their energy, we cannot help wondering what would have been its thrilling tones and lofty flights, had life unfolded its mysteries year after year to her poet’s eye. But we thank God she was spared the sight of them; for though we have lost the songs, she has missed the sorrow!