And yet, except thy parents and thy teachers,
Friends and companions thou hast hardly known.
'Tis fit that I should tell thee why our life
Has been thus socially estranged and quiet.
Sit down, and let me push the arm-chair up
Where I can note the changes in thy face;
For 'tis a traitor, that sweet face of thine,
And has a sign for every fleeting thought.
"But here's our little mother! Come, my dear,
And take a seat by Linda; thou didst help me
To graft upon the bitter past a fruit
All sweetness, and thy very presence now
Can take the sting from a too sad remembrance."
The mother placed her hand upon his brow
And said: "The water-lily springs from mud;
So springs the future from the past." Then he:
"My father's death made me, at twenty-one,
Heir to a fortune which in those slow days
Was thought sufficient: I had quitted Yale
With some slight reputation as a scholar,
And, in the first flush of ingenuous youth
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