With forces so unutterably strong,
And yet so hid—so wrapped in joy—concealed—
That whence it comes we nothing know, nor why—
We only know it is that Power called Love.’
Idylls, Legends and Lyrics.
As soon as Swami got rid of his visitor, he quickly made his way to the dark chamber, where he had been thirsting to rush for some time past, and turning on the force brought to view the psycho-development of the coronation scene, wherein the portrait of the beautiful astronomer was the centre-piece. He had in reality prepared this mental feast for himself, but was induced at the request of Felicitas to reveal its charms to that monarch.
As she sat upon her golden throne surrounded by the Maharajahs, and Heads of the various Principalities of the Eastern Empire, decked in their glittering robes, their crowns, and other courtly splendours, heightened with all the attendant pomp of Eastern ceremonial, Swami saw only the person of the matchless Mercia; for the rest possessed little interest for him at this moment.
As his gaze dwelt upon her sweet face, he looked into her eyes with rapturous emotion, and clasping his hands together, knelt before this lovely delineation of his secret adoration, uttering in tenderest accents a passionate apostrophe.
‘O, divine Mercia, I love thee! Thou hast brought into my life a new element—a new force, as mysterious, as it is powerful. A new joy has come into my heart hitherto unknown. A new hope is imparted to my lonely life, irradiating its darkness, and giving the sweetest comfort known to the human soul. I read the magic mirror of thine eyes, and see thy soul all perfect, all pure, and unsullied.
‘I mentally see thy thought, and mapped out before me read the loveliness of thy mind; for by the motions of thy brain I am acquainted with the rich treasures of thy cultured mind.