of its health--its education--its very growth: the minutest thing was not
beneath her inquiry. His tidings were all that brought back to her mind
'the redolence of joy and spring.' I brought that child to her one day:
he at least had never forgotten her. How bitterly both wept when they
were separated! and she--poor, poor Ellen--an hour after their separation
was no more!" There was a pause for a few minutes. Emily was deeply
affected. Mrs. St. John had anticipated the effect she had produced, and
concerted the method to increase it. "It is singular," she resumed,
"that, the evening before her elopement, some verses were sent to her
anonymously--I do not think, Emily, that you have ever seen them. Shall
I sing them to you now?" and, without waiting for a reply, she placed
herself at the piano; and with a low but sweet voice, greatly aided in
effect by the extreme feeling of her manner, she sang the following
verses:

1.
And wilt thou leave that happy home,
Where once it was so sweet to live?
Ah! think, before thou seek'st to roam,
What safer shelter Guilt can give!

2.
The Bird may rove, and still regain
With spotless wings, her wonted rest,
But home, once lost, is ne'er again
Restored to Woman's erring breast!

3.
If wandering o'er a world of flowers,
The heart at times would ask repose;