Harrington to Worthy.
Boston.SHE is gone—she is dead—she who was the most charming, the most gentle, is gone—You may come—you may desire to behold all that was lovely—but your eyes will not see her.
YES! I raved—I was distracted—but now I am calm and dispassionate—I am smooth as the surface of a lake—I shall see her again.
WHEN our spirits are disencumbered of this load of mortality, and they wing their 1113flight to the celestial regions, shall we not then know those who were dear to us in this world? Shall we not delight in their society, as we have done in this state of existence? Yes—certainly we shall—we shall find them out in Heaven—there alone is happiness—there shall I meet her—there our love will not be a crime—Let me indulge this thought—it gives a momentary joy to my heart—it removes the dark mist that swims before my eyes—it restores tranquility; but the more I reflect on this thought—the more I long to be there—the more I detest this world and all it contains. I sigh to fly away from it.
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