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2024年3月12日发(作者:源码资本股票)

the Child in the Grave

by Hans Christian Andersen(1859)

IT was a very sad day, and every heart in thehouse felt the deepe

st grief; for the youngestchild, a boy of four years old, the jo

y and hope ofhis parents, was dead. Two daughters, the elderof who

m was going to be confirmed, stillremained: they were both good,

charming girls;

but the lost child always seems the dearest; andwhen it is youngest

, and a son, it makes the trialstill more heavy. The sisters mour

ned as young hearts can mourn, and were especially grievedat the si

ght of their parents' sorrow. The father's heart was bowed down, bu

t the mothersunk completely under the deep grief. Day and night she

had attended to the sick child,

nursing and carrying it in her bosom, as a part of herself. She c

ould not realize the fact thatthe child was dead, and must be laid

in a coffin to rest in the ground. She thought God couldnot take

her darling little one from her; and when it did happen notwithst

anding her hopes andher belief, and there could be no more doubt o

n the subject, she said in her feverishagony,

“God does not know it. He has hard-hearted ministering spirits on e

arth, who doaccording to their own will, and heed not a mother's

prayers.” Thus in her GREat grief shefell away from her faith in G

od, and dark thoughts arose in her mind respecting death and afutur

e state. She tried to believe that man was but dust, and that wit

h his life all existenceended. But these doubts were no support to

her, nothing on which she could rest, and shesunk into the fathoml

ess depths of despair. In her darkest hours she ceased to weep, an

dthought not of the young daughters who were still left to her. The

tears of her husband fell onher forehead, but she took no notice

of him; her thoughts were with her dead child; herwhole existence

seemed wrapped up in the remembrances of the little one and of ev

eryinnocent word it had uttered.

the day of the little child's funeral came. For nights previously th

e mother had not slept,

but in the morning twilight of this day she sunk from weariness int

o a deep sleep; in themean time the coffin was carried into a dis

tant room, and there nailed down, that she mightnot hear the blows

of the hammer. When she awoke, and wanted to see her child, the

husband, with tears, said,

“We have closed the coffin; it was necessary to do so.”

“When God is so hard to me, how can I expect men to be better?

” she said with groansand tears.

the coffin was carried to the grave, and the disconsolate mother sa

t with her youngdaughters. She looked at them, but she saw them no

t; for her thoughts were far away fromthe domestic hearth. She gave

herself up to her grief, and it tossed her to and fro, as thes

ea tosses a ship without compass or rudder. So the day of the fune

ral passed away, andsimilar days followed, of dark, wearisome pain.

With tearful eyes and mournful glances, thesorrowing daughters and

the afflicted husband looked upon her who would not hear their words

of comfort; and, indeed, what comforting words could they speak,

when they werethemselves so full of grief? It seemed as if she wou

ld never again know sleep, and yet itwould have been her best frie

nd, one who would have strengthened her body and pouredpeace into h


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