the last supper

the last supper
BUT the privations, or rather the hardships, of Lowood lessened.
Spring drew on: she was indeed already come; the frosts of winter
had ceased; its snows were melted, its cutting winds ameliorated. My
wretched feet, flayed and swollen to lameness by the sharp air of
January, began to heal and subside under the gentler breathings of
April; the nights and mornings no longer by their Canadian temperature
froze the very blood in our veins; we could now endure the play-hour
passed in the garden: sometimes on a sunny day it began even to be
pleasant and genial, and a greenness grew over those brown beds,
the last supper
pleasant and genial, and a greenness grew over those brown beds,
which, freshening daily, suggested the thought that Hope traversed
them at night, and left each morning brighter traces of her steps.
Flowers peeped out amongst the leaves; snowdrops, crocuses, purple
auriculas, and golden-eyed pansies. On Thursday afternoons
(half-holidays) we now took walks, and found still sweeter flowers
opening by the wayside, under the hedges.
I discovered, too, that a great pleasure, an enjoyment which the
horizon only bounded, lay all outside the high and spike-guarded walls
the last supper