Letitia Elizabeth Landon,
The Miniature
(1830)
“ The dim light threw a shadow over the meanness of the place, and softness and quietness hallowed the agony of the hour; for Charles Seymour was looking for the last time on the face of the mother be had idolized—his young, his beautiful mother, whose small exquisite features, and dark length of hair, might rather have suited a lovely sister dying beneath her first sorrow, than one to whom many a year of grief and care would have made the grave seem a hope and a home, but for those she left behind. ”
