Lehigh University
The Vault at PfaffsAn Archive of Art and Literature by the Bohemians of Antebellum New York
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Text for Page 109 [05-28-1851]

              Battery.   Sultry, close atmosphere, a lazy swell scarcely stirring the oil-
like water, and ever and anon summer lightning, shaped like a spiral
fingered genii-hand appearing from the moonless sky.   Music from the
walls of Castle Garden awhile.         Sate, thinking of past hopes, of Life,
of Death and Immortality, gazing at the tranquil water. /  It would seem
at first glance harshly ordered that that first delicious boy-dream encountered
by most in early life, � ah how full of high hopes, and purity and deep
heartfelt religion is it � should never end in tangible happiness. Shaks
pere�s axiom
			�For aught that I could ever read
			Could ever learn by tale or history
			The course of true love never did run smooth � �
is a true one, and Scott gives the right reason, in Peveril.   Yet never
theless it is so ruled, wisely.   For, as from Death and Suffering and Sorrow
sprung up infinite Sympathies, Heroisms, Kindnesses, what influence then
has not a past love on the heart.   Not Past Though � present ever.
Yet is it a sad thought � to pass alone through life. [words crossed out]
[word crossed out]. Will it be my lot?     /                 Called in at the �Shades�,
a glass of ale with Mr Richardson, whom I found there, then to my room.
  29.  Thursday.  Out boarding-house seeking all the morning.  Called
at Canal, saw Mrs Homer; called at Duane, saw Dillon.  Calling at
Genins got a ticket for Jenny Lind�s concert this afternoon. So, dinner
over set off to Castle Garden.   The place filled, though not uncomfortably
so.   The audience presented a muffled appearance, the light and gay head-dresses
of the women contrasting with the dark costume of the men.  A noisy overture,
, and then Sacred Concert, Jenny Lind commencing with �I know that my
Redeemer liveth.�     She has a wondrously sweet, pure, flexible voice, yet in power
not as I had, perchance unwisely, imagined.    Loath to say, Hunting has               
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