VI.
_A Dream of Darkness._
Is our life a sun, that it should radiate light and heat forever? Do not
the calmest and brightest days of autumn show clouds, that drift their
ragged edges over the golden disk, and bear down swift with their weight
of vapors, until the sun's whole surface is shrouded; and you can see no
shadow of tree or flower upon the land, because of the greater and
gulping shadow of the cloud?
Will not life bear me out; will not truth, earnest and stern, around me
make good the terrible imagination that now comes swooping, heavily and
darkly, upon my brain?
You are living in a little village not far away from the city. It is a
graceful and luxurious home that you possess. The holly and the laurel
gladden its lawn in winter; and bowers of blossoms sweeten it through
all the summer. You know each day of your return from the town, where
first you will catch sight of that graceful figure flitting like a
shadow of love beneath the trees; you know well where you will meet the
joyous and noisy welcome of stout Frank, and of tottling Nelly. Day
after day and week after week they fail not.
A friend sometimes attends you; and a friend to you is always a friend
to Madge.
Pages:
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230