The Fairy Godmothers. 51

Than that inanimate cold world allowed

To the poor lovelefs ever anxious crowd,

Ah! from the foul itfelf muft iffue forth

A light, a glory, a fair luminous cloud
Enveloping the earth—

And from the foul itfelf muft there be fent

A fweet and potent voice, of its own birth,

Of all {weet founds the life and element !”

And, turning through the little handgate at the
extremity of the wood, fhe purfued the train of
thought with heightened colour in her cheeks—

«<I may not hope from outward forms to win
The paffion and the life, whofe fountains are within.”

And thus Hermione reached her home, her coun-
tenance lighted up by the pleafure of fuccefs, and
the fweet and healthy mufings of her folitary walk.

She entered the library of a beautiful country
houfe by the low window that opened on to the
lawn, and found her mother reading.

“T cannot tell you how lovely the day is,
Mamma, every thing is fo frefh, and the fhadows
and lights are fo good! I have immortalized our
poor old friend the oak, before they-cut him down,”
added fhe, fmiling, as fhe placed the drawing in
her mother’s hands. ‘I with the foreft belonged
to fome one who had not this cruel tafte for
turning knotted oak trees into fancy work-tables.
It is as bad as what Charles Lamb faid of the
firs, ‘ which look fo romantic alive, and die
into defks.’ — Die into defks!” repeated Her-
mione mufingly, as fhe feated herfelf on the fofa,