MARY. 85 



forget his appearance at this moment. His tall, 

 erect, and athletic figure his silvery hair which 

 covered his ears and neck, and curled over his manly 

 brow, and his open ruddy countenance, left a pic- 

 ture on the mind which will not soon be obliterated. 

 His first impulse was to see Mary. We warned him 

 of the consequence of an abrupt disclosure to her 

 of the contents of the letter, and he promised to be 

 guarded. We advanced towards his cottage, where 

 we found Mary busied in decorating a little vase 

 with flowers, her face pale and melancholy as usual. 

 She was evidently thinking of her absent lover, and 

 that she should see him no more. We heard her 

 singing the following lines in a tone which found its 

 way to all our hearts. 



Sleep, sleep, poor youth I Sleep, sleep in peace. 

 Relieved from love, and mortal care ; 

 Whilst we, that pine in life's disease, 

 Uncertain blest less happy are. 



Our entrance interrupted her song. ' Mary,' said 

 the old man, ' Mary, my dear child, here's some- 

 ' thing to comfort thee.' Mary turned towards him. 

 There was in her countenance that look of anxiety 

 and hopelessness which evince the heighth of 

 wretchedness. Shakespeare says. 



' The miserable have no other medicine, 

 * But only hope.' 



Poor Mary had not even this to comfort her, she 



