Oh! verdure of human fields, cottages of men and women, (that now suddenly seemed all brothers and sisters, ) cottages with children around them at play, that are so far below--oh! summer and spring, flowers and blossoms, to which, as to his symbols, God has given the gorgeous privilege of rehearsing for ever upon earth his most mysterious perfection--Life, and the resurrections of Life--is it indeed true, that poor Kate must never see you more? Mutteringly she put that question to herself. But strange are the caprices of ebb and flow in the deep fountains of human sensibilities.