We do
not envy such. That man's heart must be made of doubtful stuff, who
jeers at the fresh dreams of youth; or rather, he must have no heart
at all--above all, no sweet and affecting recollections. There is
something touching in the very idea of this pure and unselfish
emotion, which the hardened nature of the grown-up man can never feel
again. Men often dream about their childhood, and shed unavailing
tears as they gaze in fancy on their own youthful faces, and with the
pencil of imagination slowly trace the old forms and images.
Said a writer of our acquaintance, no matter who, since no one read or
thought of him:--"The writer of these idle lines finds no difficulty
in painting for himself a Titian picture, in which, as in his
life-picture, his own figure lies on the canvas. Long ago--a long,
long time ago--in fact, when he was a boy, and loved dearly a child
like himself, a child who is now a fair and beautiful-browed woman,
and who smiles with a dreamy, thoughtful expression, when his face
comes to her--long ago, flowers were very bright in the bright May
day, by a country brookside.
Pages:
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231