THE REDEMPTION.
Day was about to dawn.A rosy light, almost imperceptible, began to glimmer in the east; but the stars still shone, sparkling with radiance, upon the azure of the zenith.The birds awoke beneath the fresh foliage of the great woods; and, with isolated warblings, sang the prelude of their morning-concert.A light mist rose from the high grass, bathed in nocturnal dew, while the calm and limpid waters of a vast lake reflected the whitening dawn in their deep, blue mirror.Everything promised one of those warm and joyous days, that belong to the opening of summer.
Half-way up the slope of a hill, facing the east, a tuft of old, moss-
grown willows, whose rugged bark disappeared beneath the climbing branches of wild honeysuckle and harebells, formed a natural harbor; and on their gnarled and enormous roots, covered with thick moss, were seated a man and a woman, whose white hair, deep wrinkles, and bending figures, announced extreme old age.And yet this woman had only lately been young and beautiful, with long black hair overshadowing her pale forehead.And yet this man had, a short time ago, been still in the vigor of his age.
From the spot where this man and woman were reposing, could be seen the valley, the lake, the woods, and, soaring above the woods, the blue summit of a high mountain, from behind which the sun was about to rise.
This picture, half veiled by the pale transparency of the morning twilight, was pleasing, melancholy, and solemn.