Page:The treasure of the humble (IA cu31924072557063).pdf/79

is it reserved for a time when doubt and uncertainty shall be no longer. . . .

Its voice does not make itself heard now because its moment for speaking has not yet come; and it is never those whom we enfold in our arms that we love the most deeply. For there is a side of life—and it is the best, the purest, the noblest side—which never blends with the ordinary life, and the eyes even of lovers themselves can seldom pierce through the masonry that is built up of silence and love. . . .

Or was it that we avoided them, because, though younger than ourselves, they still were our elders? . . . Did we know that they were not of our age, and did we fear them, as though they were sitting in judgment upon us? A curious steadfastness already lurked in their eyes; and if, in our moments of agitation, their glance rested upon us, it would soothe and comfort us, we knew not why, and there