For those, his closer kin, whose home Is darkened by the shadow grey, What can respectful love but pray That consolation thither come In that most sacred soothing guise Which natural sorrow sanctifies. Bereavement's anguish to assuage Is a sore task that lies beyond The scope of friendship or most fond Affection's power.
Bereaved we all must be, who live on and on: but this, bereavement's bitterest drop, we may avoid. "Alfred," said Julia, "do not torment yourself. We girls care little about a few sarcasms; it is the cold heart that wounds us. You loved Jane, and she knew it well, and joyed in it. You were kinder to her than you think, and so her dying thoughts were for you.