Silent and chill, when they, straight come from town, Leaving the station, walked a mile to gain The lonely house amid the hills where Jane, Her mother, and her children should be found. Waked by their entrance, but of sleep unsound, The child not yet her altered father knew; Yet talked of her papa in her delirium too. Danger there was, yet hope there was; and he, To attend the crisis, and the changes see, And take the steps, at hand should surely be. Said Jane the following day, ‘Edward, you know, Over and over I have told you so, As in a better world I seek to live, As I desire forgiveness, I forgive. Forgiveness does not feel the word to say,— As I believe in One who takes away Our sin and gives us righteousness instead,— You to this sin, I do believe, are dead. ’Twas I, you know, who let you leave your home And bade you stay when you so wished to come; My fault was that: I’ve told you so before, And vainly told; but now ’tis something more. Say, is it right, without a single friend, Without advice, to leave me to attend Children and mother both? Indeed I’ve thought Through want of you the child her fever caught. Chances of mischief come with every hour. It is not in a single woman’s power Alone, and ever haunted more or less With anxious thoughts of you and your distress,— ’Tis not indeed, I’m sure of it, in me,— All things with perfect judgment to foresee. This weight has grown too heavy to endure; And you, I tell you now, and I am sure, Neglect your duty both to God and man Persisting thus in your unnatural plan. This feeling you must conquer, for you can. And after all, you know we are but dust, What are we, in ourselves that we should trust?’ He scarcely answered her; but he obtained A longer leave, and quietly remained. Slowly the child recovered, long was ill, Long delicate, and he must watch her still; To give up seeing her he could not bear, To leave her less attended, did not dare. The child recovered slowly, slowly too Recovered he, and more familiar drew Home’s happy breath; and apprehension o’er, Their former life he yielded to restore, And to his mournful garret went no more. * * * * *