colby_fam_b1_f21_d29_01_a

Written for [corner of page torn off]
Uncle Jesse's -Old Log Cabin.

"Happiness", says "Currer Bell" "is a golden glory, shin-
ing down upon us out of Heaven" - and it may
well be doubted if the divine halo, ever glows
with a holier light upon crowned heads and
princes, than upon the humblest peasant if it
ever shines with a purer lustre in the gilded
halls of the wealthy and proud, than in the
lowly cottages of the poor and unknown

There may be a more dazzline glitter in the
one - a glitter that may deceive the eye by
its reflected brightness, as the false glare of the
artic sun, may cause the benumbed mariner to
dream of warmth and heat, as it flashes its
diamond rays upon the cold blue waves, and
fields of floating ice; but the prismatic iceberg, gives
back the sparking glory of the sun's caress, only in
[?] brilliancy and beauty, and receives no warmth
in its chill bosom, responds not with answer-
ing life, bursting from its heart.

But the wandering sunbeam, that steals
unobserved into the dark recesses of the summer
forests, and kisses its narrow space of soil, warms
into life and beauty the hidden violet, that gives
its soul out in fragrance to the sweet wooings
of sun and shower. And thus too often is it
in life; cold is the glitter and glare of fashionable
society, heartless and soulless is their home life,
while the one pure blossom of Pardise that
"Alone survives the fall,"
still blooms in all its native loveliness around
the poor man's cot, and sheds its fragrance on