Journal 18 Page 1


September 28, 1861-January l8, 1862

[No comments in this Journal by Rachel Strachey.]

[inside front cover:]

"There is a Rock, and nigh at hand,

A shadow in a weary land.

Who in that stricken Rock hath rest,

"Finds water gushing from its breast.''

"The coldness from my heart is gone,

But still the weight is there,

And thoughts I abhor will come To tempt me to despair."

"When death is comingnear,

And thy heart shrieks in fear,

Then raise thy hands & pray

To him who smooths the way

Through the dark vale.

Seest thou the eastern dawn?

Hear'st thou, in the red morn,

The angel's song?

Oh! lift thy drooping head,

Thou, who in gloom & dread

Hast lain so long.

Death comes to set thee free,

Oh! meet him cheerily,

As thy true Friend;

And all thy fears shall cease,

And in eternal peace,

Thy penance end."

["Sintram."] [preceding brackets FEW's]

[2nd unnumbered page;]

"Yet if there lay in this coming labor any pain, any wearing effort, she clung to it desperately, as if this should banish, it might be, worse loss. She tried desperately, I say, to clutch the far, uncertain hope at the end, to make happiness out of it, to give it to her silent, hungry heart to feed on. She thrust out of sight all possible life that might have called her true self into being, and clung to this present shallow duty and shallow reward. Pitiful and vain so to cling! It is the way of women. As if any human soul could bury that which might have been in that which is. "