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space like a soft trace of light—I felt the might and strength of God。 Sure was I of His efficiency to save what He had made: convinced I grew that neither earth should perish; nor one of the souls it treasured。 I turned my prayer to thanksgiving: the Source of Life was also the Saviour of spirits。 Mr。 Rochester was safe; he was God’s; and by God would he be guarded。 I again nestled to the breast of the hill; and ere long in sleep forgot sorrow。
But next day; Want came to me pale and bare。 Long after the little birds had left their nests; long after bees had e in the sweet prime of day to gather the heath honey before the dew was dried— when the long morning shadows were curtailed; and the sun filled earth and sky—I got up; and I looked round me。
What a still; hot; perfect day! What a golden desert this spreading moor! Everywhere sunshine。 I wished I could live in it and on it。 I saw a lizard run over the crag; I saw a bee busy among the sweet bilberries。 I would fain at the moment have bee bee or lizard; that I might have found fitting nutriment; permanent shelter here。 But I was a human being; and had a human being’s wants: I must not linger where there was nothing to supply them。 I rose; I looked back at the bed I had left。 Hopeless of the future; I wished but this—that my Maker had that night thought good to require my soul of me while I slept; and that this weary frame; absolved by death from further conflict with fate; had noingle in peace with the soil o
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