Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

[110] changed, and my heart sank within me. Till this moment I had indulged the most sanguine hopes;—but now my fears overmastered them. She was evidently worse, though she felt as well As usual. The day passed without change; and towards evening, as she seemed a little restless and could not sleep, I sat down by her bedside, and read your letter and Eliza's to her. O, I shall never forget how her eyes and her whole countenance brightened, and with what a heavenly smile she looked up into my face as I read. My own hopes revived again to see that look; but alas! this was the last gleam of the dying lamp. Towards ten o'clock she felt a slight oppression in the chest, with a difficulty of breathing. I sat down by her side and tried to cheer her; and as her respiration became more difficult, she said to me, ‘Why should I be troubled; If I die God will take me to himself.’ And from this moment she was perfectly calm, excepting for a single instant, when she exclaimed, ‘O, my dear Father; how he will mourn for me.’ A short time afterwards she thanked Clara for her kindness, and clasping her arms affectionately round my neck, kissed me, and said, ‘Dear Henry, do not forget me!’ and after this, ‘Tell my dear friends at home that I thought of them at the last hour.’ I then read to her from the Church Litany the prayers