Diary_1804-1807_part_one

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26
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26

[same as page 24]

Last edit over 4 years ago by catslover
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[same as page 25]

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When the sun shines, the restless ocean, the dark [deletion] forests even the barren rock can smile & charm with [borrowed?] [luster?] but, when his rays are obscured by clouds, or by the shades of night, [deletion] the vivid, colouring of the rose, the sparkling of the diamonds, & all the beauties of nature are lost to our spirit. Thus it is with life. When the mind is [?] the heart at peace, solitude, domestic care, & even pain are enlightened by the sunshine of the [deleted]mind[deleted] soul; but if the vapour of melancholy or the [gloom?] of sadness prevail, nor society friends, [fortune?] or health can import happiness. -

I scarcely know any sight more deplorable, than that of genius, concious worth & sensibility, condemned to the earning of a mere [subsistence?] for the body, while the energies of the soul, depressed by poverty, [obscurity?] & dependence, & condemned to associations with minds uninformed & [totally?] dissimilar, are lost to society & himself - yet this is but too often the case with those who the [?] favorites of nature, are the [offcasts?] of fortune.

Last edit over 4 years ago by catslover
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Lines

On a Pen, presented to a friend -

May this little [b?] impart Pleasure to your youthful heart Time [deleted]For[deleted] it owns a magic [?ill] Obedient to its master's will. It, may fortune's favours gain It, can Honor's [wealth?] obtain, It, can Virture's cause defend It, secures the faithful friend It, can gain the female heart It, can [?] joys impart; Absence owns its kindest power To gladden sorrow's [?] hour,

Not the [Philosopher?] atone Half these precious virtues own That, can only wealth impart This, the treasures of the heart.

Thus in this triffle you may find, Pleasure, wealth & fame combined. Love - esteem [or?] [?]

To virtuous souls shall marriage prove, The heaven, not the tomb of love within its hallowed [precincts?] I walk, Delights the tongue can never tell From this sacred fountain flew Joys which love can ne'er bestow Here shall passions tumults cease, Here be found unbroken peace! -

All who those tender joys can tell which oft the parent's bosom swell

Last edit over 4 years ago by catslover
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When as they view their infant race They can each others virtue [trace?] And in their darling offspring find Their hopes, their love, their fears combined. [Pure?] delights to those unknown, Or passions restless [billows?] thrown.

Life is a stream, subject to the varying tides, & exposed to all the vissitudes of storm & sunshine, of hurricane & calms. Sometimes, when its surface is smooth, we [deleted]glide[deleted] gently glide with the current, pleased with the reflection of a bright sky, the beautiful scenery of its [shines?] & [sporting?] in the [inserted]gently[inserted] soft breeses which waft us along, then, we can move our little [boat?], without assistance, & be safe & happy tho' alone. But when storms arrive, when the billows roll, & the [opening?] waves [de?] rushes & quick, [?], then when our strength is exhausted the soul [deletion] [harranged?] by fear & alarm, then we realize our lonely & helpless state; & wish for the supporting hand of a companion, for the soothing voice of a friend! And where such willing assistance, where such cheering [power?], as that which true love affords?

Last edit over 4 years ago by catslover
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