one,
While about it lie unheeded, as it hasteth on alone,
Its deeds of good or evil, a fruitful mystery;
But it presseth on, nor recketh what their event may be.
And when doubt and fear assail it, it may not rise above
To the glorious, peaceful height of fear-outcasting love;
But something draws it downward, breathes of its lower birth,
Prompts it to seek a refuge in the blindness of the earth.
And it hides its head in earthliness; at least it will not see
The blow it cannot ward off; and the foe it may not flee.
But something softly whispers that these wings shall grow to soar--
Heaven grant!--in the cloudless depths of love for evermore.
It whispers that again these blinded eyes shall see;
Heaven grant in their yearning gaze the long-sought home may be!
It whispers each word and act shall to fruition spring;
Heaven grant they may joy to man, and peace to the spirit bring!

Of the wild and wandering Ostrich, say, have ye never heard?
The type of the restless soul of man, the weary, wingless bird.

COWS.

I admire cows in their proper places. They are undoubtedly useful
animals; some may think them handsome and graceful: this is, as yet,
an unsettled question. They certainly figure pretty extensively in all
sketches of rural scenery, and may, therefore, be considered as
picturesque objects; but I think that on canvas they take to
themselves beauties which they do not possess in actual life. I do not
object to see them at a distance, quietly grazing in a meadow by the
brink of a winding stream, and all that sort of thing, provided the
distance is very great, and a strong fence intervenes. For I would
have you know, that I am a delicate young lady of nervous temperament
and keen sensibilities, and have a mortal dread of cows. I am not used
to the customs of country life, which place this animal on a level
with domestic pets, and when my brother asked me to pat the side of
one of these great, coarse brutes, I screamed at the mere idea. For I
should be extremely unwilling to provoke one of them, because I have
been told that, when heated with passion, as these beasts often are,
it sometimes happens that the powder-horns on top of their heads
explode, and spread ruin and desolation around. People here bestow a
vast deal too much consideration on these unpleasant animals, for they
are often seen--that is, those of them that are troubled with weak
eyes--walking along the street