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。 My hunger; sharp before; was; if not satisfied; appeased by this hermit’s meal。 I said my evening prayers at its conclusion; and then chose my couch。
Beside the crag the heath was very deep: when I lay down my feet were buried in it; rising high on each side; it left only a narrow space for the night…air to invade。 I folded my shawl double; and spread it over me for a coverlet; a low; mossy swell was my pillow。 Thus lodged; I was not; at least—at the mencement of the night; cold。
My rest might have been blissful enough; only a sad heart broke it。 It plained of its gaping wounds; its inward bleeding; its riven chords。 It trembled for Mr。 Rochester and his doom; it bemoaned him with bitter pity; it demanded him with ceaseless longing; and; impotent as a bird with both wings broken; it still quivered its shattered pinions in vain attempts to seek him。
Worn out with this torture of thought; I rose to my knees。 Night was e; and her plas were risen: a safe; still night: too serene for the panionship of fear。 We know that God is everywhere; but certainly we feel His presence most when His works are on the grandest scale spread before us; and it is in the unclouded night…sky; where His worlds wheel their silent course; that we read clearest His infinitude; His omnipotence; His omnipresence。 I had risen to my knees to pray for Mr。 Rochester。 Looking up; I; with tear…dimmed eyes; saw the mighty Milky…way。 Remembering what it was—what countless systems there swept
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