Page:Traits and Trials.pdf/123

At last she rather guess'd than learnt,
    And with a graver tone
She said, "Oh rather thank thy God,
    My lot is not thine own.

"How would my weary feet rejoice
    Like thine to walk and run
Over the soft and fragrant grass,
    Beneath yon cheerful sun.

"And yet I trust to God's good will
    My spirit is resign'd;
Though sore my sickness, it is borne
    At least with patient mind.

"Though noble be my father's name,
    And vast my father's wealth;
He would give all, could he but give
    His only child thy health!

"Ah, judge not by the outside show
    Of this world, vain and frail—"
Still wept the child; but now she wept
    To watch a cheek so pale.

The lady Marian's voice grew faint,
    Her hour of strength was o'er;
She whisper'd, "Come to-morrow morn,
    And I will tell thee more."

Next morning Edith sought the hall;—
    They shew'd her Marian laid
Upon a couch where many a year
    That gentle child had pray'd.