"I dreamed of gorgeous fleets, silken sailed and blown by perfumed
winds, drifting over those depthless waters and through those spacious
skies. I gazed upon the twilight, the inscrutable silence, like a
God-fearing discoverer upon a new, and vast, and dim sea, bursting
upon him through forest glooms, and in the fervor of whose impassioned
gaze, a millennial and poetic world arises, and man need no longer die
to be happy.
"My companions naturally deserted me, for I had grown wearily grave
and abstracted: and, unable to resist the allurement of my spectacles,
I was constantly lost in a world, of which those companions were part,
yet of which they knew nothing. I grew cold and hard, almost morose;
people seemed to me blind and unreasonable. They did the wrong thing.
They called green, yellow; and black, white. Young men said of a girl,
'What a lovely, simple creature!' I looked, and there was only a
glistening wisp of straw, dry and hollow. Or they said, 'What a cold,
proud beauty!' I looked, and lo! a Madonna, whose heart held the
world. Or they said, 'What a wild, giddy girl!' and I saw a glancing,
dancing mountain stream, pure as the virgin snows whence it flowed,
singing through sun and shade, over pearls and gold dust, slipping
along unstained by weed, or rain, or heavy foot of cattle, touching
the flowers with a dewy kiss,--a beam of grace, a happy song, a line
of light, in the dim and troubled landscape.
Pages:
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168