100 TO J*** w*** 



%Q I*** M*** 



[When the cholera was at its height, the person to 

 ■whom these lines were addressed was occupied night 

 and day in attending to the wants of the sufferers : 

 during these laboure he contracted, or perhaps con- 

 firmed, an illness, which has entkely disabled him. 

 The lines in the next fragment were addressed to his 

 wife.— E. N.] 



Geeat heart ! thy neverfailing cheerfulness 



Is a continuous sermon to thy friends, 



Fraught with more teaching than a preacher's words ; 



A fountain gently bubbling from within, 



Refreshing to thyself and those around. 



And haply blessing both. Didst thou repine 



To feel thyself a prisoner, debarred 



From labouring in a field of usefulness 



Created by thy energetic wUl, 



And dihgently tilled by thine own hands, 



Oh, who would blame thee ! But to see thee thus, 



Love and contentment seated on the brow 



Or beaming from the eye, is a reproach 



To all who idly wail their petty ills. 



