THE FLORAE TELEGRAPH. G9 
the widow. Well, I loved this sweet 
mortal babe with an immortal’s fond¬ 
ness. I was ever near her. I sang 
into her ears sweet songs, that she 
could hear only in the first dawn of her 
innocence; and, when her fond parents 
saw her, as they thought, ceaselessly 
smile, I was pouring upon her soul 
the divinest harmonies. During her 
infancy she never wept. It was a 
surprise, a miracle, to all but me. 
How could she weep ? Was I not al¬ 
ways near and about her ? Did I not 
suffp-est to her little heart images of 
continual happiness ? She never sick¬ 
ened. It was impossible. It was I 
who loaded the breeze that fanned 
