And as you fasten
there your thought, an indulgent yet dreamy fancy paints the loved image
that is to adorn it and to make it sacred.
----She is there to bid you God speed! and an adieu that hangs like
music on your ear as you go out to the every-day labor of life. At
evening she is there to greet you, as you come back wearied with a
day's toil; and her look so full of gladness cheats you of your
fatigue; and she steals her arm around you with a soul of welcome that
beams like sunshine on her brow, and that fills your eye with tears of a
twin gratitude--to her and Heaven!
She is not unmindful of those old-fashioned virtues of cleanliness and
of order which give an air of quiet, and which secure content. Your
wants are all anticipated: the fire is burning brightly; the clean
hearth flashes under the joyous blaze; the old elbow-chair is in its
place. Your very unworthiness of all this haunts you like an accusing
spirit, and yet penetrates your heart with a new devotion toward the
loved one who is thus watchful of your comfort.
She is gentle,--keeping your love, as she has won it, by a thousand
nameless and modest virtues which radiate from her whole life and
action.
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