Ah, yes! with joy the April rain Thrills nature's breast; but mine with pain Sigheth: "He will not come again !" ALBERT LAIGHTON. II. THE DEAD HOPE. Time's Changes-Fall-down Castles-Little Bell WaitingWhen will Father Come Home?-Little Bell Weary-What the Sea said-Never more. LONGFELLOW beautifully asks in Hyperion, "What is Time, but the shadow of the hour-hand on a dialplate ?" The flowers of the earth and the hearts of men are dial-plates. The shadows coming and going on them are the hour-hands; when a flower fades, or a heart ceases to beat, it is only a weight run down. The whole universe is but one immense time-piece, throbbing with innumerable wheels, heavy with weights, and wearing itself away! Desire is a restless pendulum, one end linked to the heart, and the other pointing downward! A year had added another link to that chain. which stretches through eternity. A year! Battles lost and won: nations in mourning for their dead: ships gone down at sea; and new paths worn to graveyards! O, for the castles that blow down in a year! But time fell gently on the inmates of the Old House. The trees and vines were a little larger; and winter had somewhat browned the gables. Bell was paler and more beautiful, and Mortimer was still the same dreamer. There was a question which haunted the Old House. It was heard in the garden, at "the round window," and on the stair. "When will father come home?" ! The months flew away, like carrier doves, with memories beneath their wings. "When will father come home?" And the question was asked again and again, till the little lips and heart of Bell grew weary. Then she folded her hands, and said: "He will never come!" Her blue eyes became more dreamy, and her slight form-so very slight-glided about the house. She would listen to the sea. Once she said, "Never more!" and the sea repeated it with a human voice. In the still night she asked, "When will father come home ?" "Never more," said the sea-and she heard it through the open window-" Never more!" She waited, and the months went by. Was the child Bell the only one in this world waiting? Who has not some hope at sea? Who has not waited, and watched, and grown weary? Who has not a question in his heart, to which a low spirit-voice replies: "Never more!" |