My voice sounded a long way off. As I spoke, the pale brow, the beautiful mass of hair became shadowy, dim and visionary. Only the transcendent gleam of the blue eyes stared through the dark of my dream.
I put forth my arms and endeavoured to grasp her, but she had vanished. It was then that I knew ’twas but another mad dream of mine.
EPILOGUE
Hark! o’er the wild shore reefs the seas are leaping,
The clamouring white-armed waves come in and go;
The wind along the waste, with voice unsleeping,
Has that about its cry that all men know
Who ghost-like from themselves steal far away
To hearth-fires, dead sunset—of Yesterday!