William Pitt Scargill, Tales of My Time, Vol. 1 (of 3…
“ So raved Zorilda, as she pressed to her bosom the miniature of her mother, and gazed, in an agony of grief, on the portrait of her whose presence, could it be restored to her fond embrace, would now, she thought, fill every void in her heart, and leave no room for any other love. When the feelings are strained to their utmost, the mind falls into calm, as the raging billows of the ocean subside into repose after a storm of elemental strife, while resignation sits above, and watches the moment to whisper peace. ”
