Summary

Portrait of Lydia Maria Child Lydia Maria Child Autumnal leaves: tales and sketches in prose and rhyme (1856)

Thus walking through the green lanes of their childhood, they came unconsciously into the fairy-land of love! All was bright and golden there, and but one shadow rested on the sunshine. When Camillo spoke of the “little meeting-house in the garden,” and the image of “My donny,” she grew very thoughtful; and he said with a sigh, “I wish, dear Alice, that we were of one religion.” She smiled sweetly as she answered, “Are we not both of the religion of Jesus?”
He kissed her hand, and said, “Your soul is always large and liberal, and noble and kind; but others are not like you, dear Alice.”
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Lydia Maria Child Lydia Maria Child Autumnal leaves: tales and sketches in prose and rhyme (1856)

Then it was so pleasant to peep out into the garden, through the vine-embowered lattice-work of the verandah; to see the blooming roses, and the small fountain’s silvery veil; to inhale the fragrance of the orange blossoms, and listen to the cool trickling of the tiny water drops. All this was in reality his; for he knew not that he was a little slave; and it is the privilege of unconscious childhood to own whatsoever it delights in. In this point of view, it all belonged to little Jan more truly than it did to Mr. Van der Veen.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Lydia Maria Child Lydia Maria Child Autumnal leaves: tales and sketches in prose and rhyme (1856)

Instantly the cold gray woods shine through a veil of gold; the shadows dance, and all the little birds sing, “Joy be with thee.” A spirit nods welcome to you from every cluster of dried grass; a soul beams through the commonest pebble; ferns bow before you more gracefully than the plumes of princes; and verdant mosses kiss your feet more softly than the richest velvets of Genoa.
Trust the good little fairy. Be not disturbed by the mockery of those who despise her simple joys. She said truly, “I alone am rich; always, and everywhere, rich.{72}”
WERGELAND, THE POET.
Source: Gutenberg

Get perspective with Kwize: daily news enlightened by great literature