Which utter'd from its wondrous clock The only thought she had of Time. For her at Sunday-service hours For now came trooping up the hill strong; The white-frock'd men the sunshine fill, And girls, a many-colour'd throng. 39. The sires of all from age to age Were laid below the grassy mould, Whose hillocks were to Jane a page Inscribed with lessons manifold. 40. And in the porch, or on the green, And in the pause between the prayers, She marked each various face and mien With eyes that softened theirs. 41. She marked the mild gray head serene, Or happy look of youthful glow, 1. 3 The child between her parents Who prayed the more to God above, 45. And well that heart the mother Which he but as from far could prize; PART II. Years flowed away and never brought The weary weight of care to Jane; They gave emotion, wonder, thought, The strength of life without the pain. 2. To her new beauty largely given From deeper fountains looked and smiled; And, like a morning dream from heaven, The woman gleamed within the child. 3. Her looks were oftener turned to earth, But every glance was lovelier now; 'Twas plain that light of inward birth Now kissed the sunshine round her brow. 4. Withdrawn was she from passing eyes By more than Fortune's outward law, By bashful thoughts like silent sighs, By Feeling's lone retiring awe. 5. So fair the veil that twilight weaves Around its golden shows, The war of Will and Doom may bring, 10. Heavy and stern came down the blow That he must look at now alone. But all his fondest heart awoke, 14. No growth she deemed could either have, Though shower and sunshine aided. 22. And oft she read her Bible there, 23. One morning, while she sat intent 24. The sunshine sparkled through the sky, The breeze and lark sang on together, And yet there seemed, afar and nigh, She knew not what the mind will One silent world of azure weather. bear, Yet only only learn the more to brave; It seemed the world so large and fair Must sink within her mother's grave. 15. That grave himself would Simon And she could only turn and groan, take, 25. But from beyond the old Yew-tree 26. 'Twas now a broken word of prayer, And all the sorrow bursting there 21. The black boughs' vault of shade a She strewed them o'er her mother's grave, dorning, To wither where her joys had faded; A fixed, fair, living monument, |