Thither I had strolled, on one of those first genial days of spring which seem to affect the animal not less than the vegetable creation.  At such times even I, sedentary as I am, feel a craving for the open air and sunshine, and creep out as instinctively as snails after a shower.  Such seasons, which have an exhilarating effect upon youth, produce a soothing one when we are advanced in life.  The root of an ash tree, on the bank which bends round the little bay, had been half bared by the waters during one of the winter floods, and afforded a commodious resting-place, whereon I took my seat, at once basking in the sun and bathing, as it were, in the vernal breeze.  But delightful as all about me was to eye, and ear, and feeling, it brought with it a natural reflection, that the scene which I now beheld was the same which it had been and would continue to be, while so many of those with whom I had formerly enjoyed it, were past away.  Our day-dreams become retrospective as we advance in years; and the heart feeds as naturally upon remembrance in age as upon hope in youth.

    “Where are they gone, the old familiar faces?”

I thought of her, whom I had so often seen plying her little skiff upon that glassy water, the lady of the lake.  It was like a poet’s dream, or a vision of romance, to behold her—­and like a vision or a dream she had departed!

  “O gentle Emma, o’er a lovelier form
  Than thine, earth never closed; nor e’er did heaven
  Receive a purer spirit from the world!”

I thought of D., the most familiar of my friends during those years when we lived near enough to each other for familiar intercourse—­my friend, and the friend of all who were dearest to me; a man, of whom all who knew him will concur with me in saying, that they never knew, nor could conceive of one more strictly dutiful, more actively benevolent, more truly kind, more thoroughly good; the pleasantest companion, the sincerest counsellor, the most considerate friend, the kindest host, the welcomest guest.  After our separation, he had visited me here three summers; with him it was that I had first explored this land of lakes in all directions; and again and again should we have retraced our steps in the wildest recesses of these vales and mountains, and lived over the past again, if he had not, too early for all who loved him,

    “Began the travel of eternity.”

I called to mind my hopeful H——­, too, so often the sweet companion of my morning walks to this very spot; in whom I had fondly thought my better part should have survived me, and

  “With whom it seemed my very life
                Went half away! 
  But we shall meet—­but we shall meet
  Where parting tears shall never flow;
  And when I think thereon, almost
                I long to go!”

“Thy dead shall live, O Lord; together with my dead body shall they arise.  Awake and sing, ye that dwell in dust! for Thy dew is as the dew of herbs; and the earth shall cast out her dead!”