Part 25 (2/2)

Two loving hearts may sever, Yet love shall fail them never.

Love brightest beams in sorrow's night, Love is of life the light.

Two loving hearts may sever, Yet hope shall fail them never.

Hope is a star in sorrow's night, Forget-me-not of light.

Two loving hearts may sever, Yet faith may fail them never.

Trust on through sorrow's night, Faith is of love and hope the light.

Two loving hearts may sever, For sorrow fails them never.

Who knows not love in sorrow's night, He knows not love in light.

Philip was by no means pleased. However, it was in anything but a sentimental manner that Guy, looking over him, said, 'For sever, read, be separated, but ”a” wouldn't rhyme.'

'I translated it into prose, and Guy made it verse,' said Laura; 'I hope you approve of our performance.'

'It is that thing of Helmine von Chezy, ”Beharre”, is it not?' said Philip, particularly civil, because he was so much annoyed. 'You have rendered the spirit very well', but you have sacrificed a good deal to your double rhymes.'

'Yes; those last lines are not troubled with any equality of feet,' said Guy; 'but the repet.i.tion is half the beauty. It put me in mind of those lines of Burns--

”Had we never loved so kindly, Had we never loved so blindly, Never met and never parted, We had ne'er been broken hearted;”

but there is a trust in these that is more touching than that despair.'

'Yes; the despair is ready, to wish the love had never been,' said Laura. 'It does not see the star of trust. Why did you use that word ”trust” only once, Guy?'

'I did not want to lose the three--faith, hope, love,--faith keeping the other two alive.'

'My doubt was whether it was right to have that a.n.a.logy.'

'Surely,' said Guy, eagerly, 'that a.n.a.logy must be the best part of earthly love.'

Here Charlotte came to see if Guy and Laura meant to sing all the afternoon; and they went out. They found the others in the arbour, and Charlotte's histories of its construction, gave Philip little satisfaction. They next proceeded to talk over the ball.

'Ah!' said Philip, 'b.a.l.l.s are the fas.h.i.+on just now. What do you say, Amy, [he was more inclined to patronize her than any one else] to the gaieties we are going to provide for you?'

'You! Are you going to have your new colours? Oh! you are not going to give us a ball?'

'Well! that is fun!' cried Guy. 'What glory Maurice de Courcy must be in!'

'He is gone to Allonby,' said Philip, 'to announce it; saying, he must persuade his father to put off their going to Brighton. Do you think he will succeed?'

'Hardly,' said Laura; 'poor Lady Kilcoran was so knocked up by their ball, that she is the more in want of sea air. Oh, mamma, Eva must come and stay here.'

'That she must,' said Mrs. Edmonstone; 'that will make it easy. She is the only one who will care about the ball.'

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