“There was a clear deep pond in our garden at Harford, surrounded with green banks covered with flowers, and overhung with willows.  I used to sit upon that bank and weave garlands of the sweet buds and tender willow shoots, and build castles about that future world.  The image of the heavens lay within the waters, and the trees and flowers looked more beautiful reflected in their depths.  Ah, I used to think, one plunge into that lovely mirror, and I should reach that happy world—­should know all.  But this I said in my simplicity, for I knew not at that tender age that self-destruction was a sin; that man was forbidden to unclose a gate of which the Almighty held the key.  His merciful hand was stretched over the creature of his will, and I never made the rash attempt.

“As I grew older, I saw three loved and lovely sisters perish one by one.  Each, in turn, had been a mother to me, and I loved them with my whole heart.  Their sickness was sorrowful, and I often wept bitterly over their bodily sufferings.  But when the conqueror came, how easily the feeble conquered.  Instead of fearing the destroyer, as you call Death, they went forth to meet him with songs of joy, and welcomed him as a friend.

“Oh, had you seen my Lucy die!  Had you seen the glory that rested upon her pale brow; had you heard the music that burst from her sweet lips ere they were hushed for ever; had you seen the hand that pointed upward to the skies; you would have exclaimed, with her, ’O death, where is thy sting!  O grave, where is thy victory?’”

The child paused, for her utterance was choked with tears.  Anthony took her hand; he started, for pale as it was, it burnt with an unnatural heat.  Fever was in every vein.  “Are you ill, Clary?”

“Ill?  Oh, no! but I never feel very well.  I have had my summons, Anthony; I shall not be long here.”

Seeing him look anxiously in her face, she smiled, and going to a corner of the room, brought forward a harp which had escaped his observation, and said, playfully, “I have made you sad, cousin, when I wished to cheer you.  Come, I will sing to you.  Fred tells me that I sing well.  If you love music as I do, it will soon banish sorrow from your heart.”

There was something so refreshing in the candor of the young creature, that it operated upon the mind of Anthony like a spell, and when the finest voice he ever in his life heard burst upon his ear, and filled the room with living harmony, he almost fancied he could see the halo encircling the lofty brows of the fair young saint: 

    The flowers of earth are fair
      As the hopes we fondly cherish;
    But the canker-worm of care
      Bids the best and brightest perish. 
    The heavens to-day are bright,
      But the morn brings storm and sorrow;
    And the friends we love to-night
      May sleep in earth to-morrow.