(79)
on many a merry evening, in the fire-side circle, in that comfortable back parlour—it is never used now—
O ye Matravises[1] of the age, ye know not what ye lose, in despising these petty topics of endeared remembrance, associated circumstances of past times;—ye know not the throbbings of the heart, tender yet affectionately familiar, which accompany the dear and honoured names of Father or of Mother.
Maria! I thought on all these things; my heart ached at the review of them—it yet aches, while I write this—but I am never so satisfied with my train of thoughts, as
- ↑ This name will be explained presently.
when
