she was sweet to see!
Her cheek was bright, and fairer than the fair,
Each tress the sungleam shimmering o'er the sea;
An open bible lay upon her knee,
She had been reading from the volume old
In meek and innocent simplicity,
And tinging all things earthly with the gold
The calmer, holier radiance of that other fold.

XXXVIII.

"I will be with you even unto death."
"Come unto Me and I will give you rest."
"I, even I, am He that comforteth."
What words are these! how beautiful, how blest!
And Granny, as she listened, fondly pressed
Her darling's little hand, did she not bring
Sweet consolation to her aged breast
When th' sun of life was low--towards evening,
And life's fast fleeting pleasures, all had taken wing?

XXXIX.

But dim were Granny's glasses with a tear
While listening to that voice so soft, so low,
Oh! what upon this weary earth so dear?
Oh! what so cherished as that smile below?
The depth of human fondness who can know?
She dried her tears, imprinting a slow kiss
Upon her beauty's cheek, she loved her so,
Oh! what more tender, more sublime than this?
Beside that hearth there reigned such still, such sacred bliss.

XL.

Our visitors had entered. Granny seemed
Right down delighted that they should have come,
For from her eyes a nameless pleasure beamed,
Which seemed of all delights to be the sum;
She tried to make them cosy interdum,
And to their kind enquiries she replied,
"I'm bonny in my way, I thank you, Mum,
And how's yourselves and those at home beside?"
Then to them several little matters did confide.

XLI.

The cot, consisting of two rooms, was thatched;
Each room was on the ground. Above the door
Clung vines and roses, and the wall was patched,
And all an aspect of contentment bore,
The prettiest little scene you ever saw,
Within, above the mantel, hung the gun
Which there had hung for fifteen years or more,
Memento of that dear departed one,
Telling of how much service it before had done.

XLII.

Within the corner stood the eight-day clock
Which had recounted time for years and years,
And even then was going "tick-a-tock,"
Tho' it had seen so many smiles and tears;
There is a something which, I fancy, cheers
In the slow ditty which those songsters sing,
Some sweet responsion which the bosom hears,
Whose echo is so soft and comforting,
Winding a stilly peace round each familiar thing.

XLIII.

The bacon hung suspended from a beam,
And ancient china made t