The storm continued its violence, and desolate indeed, was the cottage home of the mother and the sister, where lay the lifeless form of Annie, reposing in the long deep sleep of death. It was Sabbath day--a stormy Sabbath day, when the coffin of Annie was borne upon the shoulders of four men to its last resting place. It was covered with a neat black velvet pall, at each corner of which hung suspended a heavy black silk tassel, which waved in the wind as it came careering on, in fitful gusts, one blast scattering a shower of snow upon the velvet pall, and the next, sweeping it away, and so they laid her in her grave, amid the howling of the wintry storm; but it disturbed not her repose. Willie and Matilda sleep upon the banks of the Sandy river. The father's grave was made upon the banks of the far off Mississippi, and Annie rests by the side of the winding Androscoggin; her mother, too, is by her side; for she soon followed to the land of shadows. Ellen has entered upon the responsible duties of wife and mother, and is acting well her part in the drama of life. Her usually volatile spirit is chastened and subdued by the sorrows that have passed over it, and it is her earnest endeavor so to live, as to meet the approbation of God, and her own conscience and train her dear children for that better life that is promised to the pure in heart. Were I weaving a tale of fiction, the reason of Edward's conduct would be required to complete the work; but it has been said "Truth is stranger than fiction," and Annie died without ever receiving any explanation. Thus we will leave them, with the assurance that they shall again be united, although their remains are now so widely separated. Lines, Written during Convalescence from Brain Fever CONTENTS Sing on, sweet bird, thy gentle strain "Can't cool my brow, or cool my brain;" But yet, thou hast a magic pow'r To lull me in a fev'rish hour; Thy pleasant notes, so sweet and clear, Come soft and mellow'd to my ear. And when my head is rack'd with pain, Burning my brow, throbbing my brain,-- When all's tumultuous, toss'd, and wild, And frantic as a wayward child; Roaring as if old ocean's waves Were bursting from their coral caves; Tossing as if old ocean's foam Were rocking to its highest home; Moaning as if the sea bird's wail Were
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