Dawn
by
Mrs. Harriet A. Adams
Part 7 out of 7
"They cannot on the merely human plane, which is ever selfish. Raise
them out of that, place them on the mount of vision, and they would
at once see it, and be glad to give their husbands the liberty of
true women's society, knowing that they were extending their own
lives in so doing. If men are unduly restrained, they take a lower
form of freedom."
"It is too true. I can now see that had I been allowed the earthly
alliance, I might have been selfish and contracted. I almost know I
should. O, Dawn, how much life is worth to us all; how much we have
to thank our heavenly father for,--most of all for the clouds with
silver linings."
"I am glad that you see it thus, my friend, my sister. That is the
soul's only sure position. Life is a great and glorious gift. If all
its hours were mixed with pain, even to have lived is grand." Then
with her eyes looking afar, as if discerning scenes invisible to
others, she repeated these beautiful lines:
"Two eyes hath every soul:
One into Time shall see;
The other bend its gaze
Into Eternity.
In all eternity
No tone can be so sweet
As where man's heart with God,
In unison doth beat.
What'er thou lovest, Man,
That too become thou must;
God-if thou lovest God;
Dust-if thou lovest dust.
Let but thy heart, O man!
Become a valley low,
And God will rain on it
Till it will overflow."
Golden bars of light lay in the room. The sun was sinking peacefully
to rest, like a great soul who had been faithful to every duty, and
rayed out its life on the barren places of earth. In that calm
evening, in the greater calm of their lives they sat, gathering rest
for the morrow, and peace for their midnight dreams-dreams which
brought to them the forms of their loved ones who had gone but a
little while before, and who loved them still, rippling the silent
stream with memory-waves, till they broke on the shore and cooled
their weary feet.
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