OLD SAXON FLOWERS. 
43 
desponding. “ I cannot help it,” said Remem¬ 
brance ; “ but when I look into the past I see more 
of pain than pleasure ; and as for the future it is so 
chequered with hopes and fears that whilst I ‘ doat 
I doubtand there ever seems some sorrow over¬ 
hanging and ready to settle down upon what I love.” 
“Take heart,” said Constancy, “all will yet be well; 
even Love is sometimes fretful, and it is only by 
leaning upon him, and looking into his face, that I 
can comfort him ; for he seems as if he sometimes 
had forgotten that I was still at his side.” 
Humility, and Constancy, and Purity of Heart, 
are the very divinities of Love, and among the 
holiest images which we enshrine in the innermost 
temple of the soul. Humility, like a lowly and 
beautiful maiden, ever walketh abroad with down¬ 
cast and modest glance, her hands folded meekly, 
and her free thoughts wandering like graceful hand¬ 
maids through the charmed chambers of the mind ; 
unfettered by the painful panoply of pride, and 
unimpeded by the watchful sentries who ever keep 
jealous guard around the slave of ambition. On 
her cheek the healthy beams of morning beat, and 
the dews of dawning are the pearly gems which 
diadem her brow : there is a grace in the unstudied 
flow of her drapery which the artists of old seized 
upon, when they called forth from the canvass 
forms which embodied the divinity of woman. They 
