Page:Poems Shore.djvu/44

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Memoir

more vividly conscious of loving than of being loved, and of charms was not conscious at all, she was not unhappy. Her temperament was calm rather than joyous; but she was fully happy after her fashion, when she called you out to listen to the first lark, or found a couple of titmice building their nest in the letter-box at the garden gate, and helped the tiny architects by gathering their moss for them; when she verified by observation some curious bit of natural history, or discovered in the garden some lovely old-fashioned rose; when in her wanderings round the grounds she caught a new vista through the woodlands, or some magical effect of light and shade, or took a long exploring drive in search of some romantic spot, with picturesque old houses and cottages—such a spot as she always dreamed of finding, to end her days in.

Very touching was the tranquil resignation with which in latter days, while still looking comparatively young, and in good health, she abandoned even the small share she had taken in outward and social life; and dwelt almost like a gentle shadow in her secluded home. There

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