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Letters on Sweden, Norway, and Denmark by Mary Wollstonecraft
page 55 of 177 (31%)
difficult to eradicate them when an affection for mankind, a passion
for an individual, is but the unfolding of that love which embraces
all that is great and beautiful!

When a warm heart has received strong impressions, they are not to
be effaced. Emotions become sentiments, and the imagination renders
even transient sensations permanent by fondly retracing them. I
cannot, without a thrill of delight, recollect views I have seen,
which are not to be forgotten, nor looks I have felt in every nerve,
which I shall never more meet. The grave has closed over a dear
friend, the friend of my youth. Still she is present with me, and I
hear her soft voice warbling as I stray over the heath. Fate has
separated me from another, the fire of whose eyes, tempered by
infantine tenderness, still warms my breast; even when gazing on
these tremendous cliffs sublime emotions absorb my soul. And, smile
not, if I add that the rosy tint of morning reminds me of a
suffusion which will never more charm my senses, unless it reappears
on the cheeks of my child. Her sweet blushes I may yet hide in my
bosom, and she is still too young to ask why starts the tear so near
akin to pleasure and pain.

I cannot write any more at present. To-morrow we will talk of
Tonsberg.



LETTER VII.



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