Where I’ll clasp her angel hands;
Soon I’ll kiss her seraph brow
On that bright angelic shore,
Where I’ll dream no more, as now,
Of those happy days of yore.
The two spirits, thus transforming, were passing away, slipping, slipping away from me back into the mysteriousness whence they came, I felt, as both moved across the page to dirge-like yet a kind of happy and hope-inspiring music. The music of each was so blended with that of the other that I could scarcely distinguish the words of the two as the second soul-dreamer mused through the melody.—
Lost! ah lost!—But not forever:
I have reached the golden strand;
Soon beyond the crystal ocean
We will wander hand in hand;