Love's indefinable glories,--Love's proud
possibilities,--Love's long ecstasies,--these, like so many
spirit-figures, seemed to smile and beckon them on, on, on, through
golden seas of sunlight,--through flower-filled fields of drowsy
entrancement,--through winding ways of rose-strewn and lily-scented
leafage,--on, on, with eyes and hearts absorbed in one another,--unseeing
any end to the dreamlike wonders that, like some heavenly picture-scroll,
unrolled slowly and radiantly before them. And so they murmured those
unwise, tender things which no wisdom in the world has ever surpassed,
and when Philip at last said "Good night!" with more reluctance than
Romeo, and pressed his parting kiss on his love's sweet, fresh
mouth,--the riddle with which he had puzzled himself so often was
resolved at last,--life _was_ worth living, worth cherishing, worth
ennobling. The reason of all things seemed clear to him,--Love, and Love
only, supported, controlled, and grandly completed the universe! He
accepted this answer to all perplexities,--his heart expanded with a
sense of large content--his soul was satisfied.
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