John’s father brought down a violin from a high closet shelf. Dare we look back upon the darkened vista, and, in imagination retrace the path we have trod? With how many vain hopes is it shaded! with how many good resolutions, never fulfilled, is it paved! Where are the dreams of ambition in which, twelve years ago, we indulged? Where are the aspirations that fired us—the passions that consumed us then? Has our success in life been commensurate with our own desires—with the anticipations formed of us by others? Or, are we not blighted in heart, as in ambition? Has not the loved one been estranged by doubt, or snatched from us by the cold hand of death? Is not the goal, towards which we pressed, further off than ever—the prospect before us cheerless as the blank behind?—Enough of this. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Lucy asked. The atmosphere was 46 strained and deathly quiet at the dining room table. “I cannot part with you. And yet, at the end of this prayer a subconscious thought broke through to consciousness.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 21-09-2024 21:37:42
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