Chapter 16 FAY'S DILEMMA.

Blessing she is; God made her so;

And deeds of week-day holiness

Fall from her noiseless as the snow;

Nor hath she ever chanced to know

That aught were easier than to bless.

Lowell.

And through the windows of her eyes

We often saw her saintly soul,

Serene, and sad, and sorrowful,

Go sorrowing for lost Paradise.

Gerald