Explore "A Bird of Passage" by B.M. Croker on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"Joy comes and goes, hope ebbs and flows, / Like the wave. / Change doth unknit the tranquil strength of man; / Love lends life a little grace, / A few sad smiles; and then, / Both are laid in one cold place, / In the grave." / M. Arnold.
DAYS crawled by, and Helen gradually and painfully began to realize her lot. Hers was a silent, stony grief (now that the first torrent of tears had been shed) of that undemonstrative, reserved nature, that it is so difficult to alleviate, and that shrinks from outward sympathy. People (ladies) came to her, and sat with her, and held her hand, and wept, but she did not; this grief that had come upon her unawares, seemed almost to have turned her to stone. She opened her heart to Mrs. Home only; and in answer to affectionate attempts at consolation, she said,-