The darkness in her nature broke; by slow degrees she gained health, though never much strength.

Upon each recovery a change was visible; a spiritual dawn had risen in her soul; moral activity blending with her ideality made her life beautiful, even in the humblest sense.

Veronica! you were endowed with genius; but while its rays penetrated you, we did not see them.

How could we profit by what you saw and heard, when we were blind and deaf?
To us, the voices of the deep sang no epic of grief; the speech of the woods was not articulate; the sea-gull's flashing flight, and the dark swallow's circling sweep, were facts only.

Sunrise and sunset were not a paean to day and night, but five o'clock A.M.or P.M.