I know the breath that fans my cheek,
The thoughts, the words I cannot speak,
The arms that round me twine.
What need of words when thoughts are told
In light that gleams like burnished gold,
With pulse that throbs to mine?
Never before had I listened to such eloquence. Every word, with its rich intonation, is indelibly stamped upon my memory, and I regret that, for personal reasons, it cannot be recorded here.
Exhausted by her long effort, as she rose and led me to the cabinet, I noticed that her form was rapidly changing. Suddenly, like the extinguishing of a light, she passed into that invisible space whence she came.
There were no "test conditions" here; and there might have been a dozen confederates, for aught I can prove. It is barely possible that this delightful being belonged on this side of life; but whether on this side or the other, in the fulness of my artistic nature, I thanked God that such beauty could exist anywhere. The evidence of truthfulness in what came to me at this séance rests on something stronger than barred windows and locked doors;—it was in the complete embodiment of the character, both mentally and physically.
The séance closed, and I returned to Glen Cove by the road that skirts the shore. The south wind played with the blue waters of the bay, throwing up myriads of little waves that danced in the moonlight. As I stood gazing upon the sea, baring my feverish brow to the cooling breeze, I felt that my whole nature was flowing out into a vast circle of being. Thoughts, words, feelings, all blended with the mellow light which flooded the scene. If I was not supremely happy, it was not from lack of harmony with everything around me.
There is ever a tinge of sadness in the background of life. With the beauty of the waves comes the low moan as they break upon the shore. With the warmth of friendship, comes the pain of parting, and, sadder still, that relentless fate that hurries us from those we love into the dim, uncertain future. The sands of life are golden only where thought diffuses itself without shadows, and the light that charms us flows from the object of our affections.
It was late, and I retired for the night—closed my eyes, but not to sleep. The walls of my room disappeared, and my vision swept over an undefined and illimitable space. Before me like a mist, but perfectly outlined, glided the beautiful being who only a few minutes before had come so close to me. Soon she was joined by others, lightly drifting, floating through the air.
As round the mountain's craggy steep
The trailing vapors curve and sweep,
So, hand in hand and side by side,
Through space unmeasured, soft they glide.
Now there, now here—so far, so near—
With outstretched arms they beckoned me,
And, like the murmur of the sea,
Their voices broke upon my ear.
As they passed near me, a hand was laid upon my face; I started, sprang up, looked around; there was no one in the room. All was still save the low surging of the tide that swept the beach below.