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MARY.
263
At least I missed them when that too was gone,—
It is now ten years since I buried William;
Sometimes, when we were happiest, a gloom
Would come across me, thinking of the time
When one of us would have to leave the other;
Such thoughts are suited to a life like ours;—
What matter! since there is a world where Love
Shall fill the soul, and never over-weigh it;
In Heaven, Love walks for ever in the sun,
Yet casts no shadow after him as here.
When William died, I know not what it was,
I felt,—a grief that was a thankfulness,
For being blest with one like him so long;—
And I am always cheerful as you see me,
But since he went, my life has never seemed
To me what it was then; my sons are thriving,
And settled happily; I now may say,
Thanks to the goodness that has followed me,
Through my long life, I have no wish remaining
As far as this world goes, or only one;
And that is, if I could but see my brother,
Or hear some tidings of him ere I die.
I sometimes think that he is dead, but then
He does not come with William in my dreams:
He settled in the Indies, where he traded,
And married there, and seemed a prosperous man;
Then we had often letters; later on
They spoke of change that was not for the better,
And told us he had lost his wife and child;
Now it is years since last we heard of him,