REMNANTS OF TIME., 475 Whither then shall I fly to find solace and ease? I cannot . depart from myself : I cannot abandon these tender and smarting. sensations. Shall I.quit the house and all the apartments of it which renew her dear memory ? Shall I rove in these open fields which lie near my dwelling, and spread wide their pleasing ver- dure ? Shall I give my soul a loose to all nature that smiles around me, or shall I confine my daily walk to this shady and delightful garden ? Oh, no : neither of these will relieve my an- guish. Serena has too often blessed me with her company both in this garden and in these fields. Her very name seems written on every tree : I shill think of her and fancy I see her in every step I. take. Here she prest the grass with her feet, here she gathered violets and roses and refreshing herbs, and gave the lovely collection'of sweetness into my hand. But alas, the sweet- est violet and the fairest rose is fallen, is withered, and is no more. Farewel then, ye fields and gardens, with all your varie- ties of greèn and flowery joys ! Ye are all a desert, a barren wil- derness, since 'Serena has for ever left you and will be seen there no more. But can friends do nothing to comfort a mourner? Come, my wise friends, surround me and divert my cares with your agreeable conversation. Can books afford no relief? Come, my books, ye Noluntes of knowledge, ye labours of the learned dead come, fill up my hours with some soothing amusement. I call my better friends about me, I fly to the heroes and the philoso- phers of ancient ages to employ my soul among them. But alas ! neither learning ,nor books amuse me, nor green and smiling prospects of nature delight me, nor conversation. with my wisest and best friends can entertain me in these dark and melancholy hours. Solitude, solitude in some unseen corner, some lonely grotto, overgrown with shades : This is my dearest choice ; let me dwell in my beloved solitude where none shall come near me ; midnight and solitude are the most pleasing things to a man who is weary of day-light and of all the scenes of this visible and busy world. I would eat and drink and dwell alone, though this lonesome humour sooths and gratifies the painful passion, and givesme up to the tyranny of my sharpest sorrows. Strange mixture that I am made of ! I mourn and grieve even to death, and yet I seem fond of nothing but grief and mourning. Woe is me ! Is there nothing on earth can divert, nothing relieve me ? Then let my thoughts ascend to paradise and heaven, there I shall find her better part, and grief must not enter there. From this hour take a new turn, O my soul, and never think of Serena but as shining and rejoicing among the spirits of the blest, and in the presence of her God. Rise often in holy meditation to the celestial world, and betake thyself to more intense piety. De- votion has wings that will bear thee high above the tumults and nh2
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