the same ideas
which pleased thee, and in which once thou imaginedst I could not
sympathise. Yet how mistaken thou hast been! I see, by marks thou hast
placed on the page, the sentiments that more especially charm thee; and
I know that I have felt them much, oh! how much more deeply and
vividly than they are there expressed--only they seem to me to have
no language--methinks that I have learned the language now. And I have
taught myself songs that thou wilt love to hear when thou returnest home
to me; and I have practised music, and I think--nay, I am sure, that
time will not pass so heavily with thee as when thou wast last here.

"And when shall I see thee again?--forgive me if I press thee to return.
Thou hast stayed away longer than thou hast been wont; but that I would
not heed; it is not the number of days, but the sensations with which
I have counted them, that make me pine for thy beloved voice, and long
once more to behold thee. Never before did I so feel thy absence, never
before was I so utterly wretched. A secret voice whispers me that we are
parted for ever. I cannot withstand the omens of my own heart. When
my poor father lived, I did not, child as I was, partake of those
sentiments with which he was wont to say the stars inspired us. I could
not see in them the boders of fear and the preachers of sad tidings;
they seemed to me only full of serenity and tenderness, and the promise
of enduring love! And ever when I looked on them, I thought of thee; and
thy image to me then, as thou knowest it was from childhood, was bright
with unimaginable but never melancholy spells. But now, although I love
thee so far more powerfully, I cannot divest the thoughts of thee from
a certain sadness; and so the stars, which are like thee, which are full
of thee, have a sadness also! And this, the bed, where every morning
I stretch my arms for thee, and find thee not, and have yet to live
through the day, and on which I now write this letter to thee--for, I
who used to rise with the sun, am now too dispirited not to endeavour to
cheat the weary day--I have made them place nearer to the window; and
I look out upon the still skies every night, and have made a friend
of every star I see. I question it of thyself, and wonder, when thou
lookest at it, if thou hast any thought of me. I love to look upon the
heavens much more than upon the earth; for the trees, and the waters
and the hills around, thou canst not behold; but the same