I looked again; faintly and more faintly still its mountains loomed above the deep. Weary with gazing, I closed my eyes, and for a moment I saw it again; but it was only in fancy. I looked—and it had passed away! Was it forever?
"And now the light of many stars
Quivered in tremulous softness on the air."
Yet not forever is it lost to me; for often in the busy world I pause and think of that dream-land in the far-off seas, and it rises before me as I saw it in the morning sun, all rich and strange in its beauty; and again I wander through its romantic vales, and again it brings back pleasant memories of the cream-colored volume; and as I look once more, startled from my reverie by the hum of life, it fades away as it faded then in the shadows of night, but not forever. Though I never more may behold it with mortal eyes, yet I see it where distance can not dim the sight: it hath not passed away forever.
CHAPTER XXIV.
CONFIDENTIAL CHAT WITH THE READER.
SCENERY OF JUAN FERNANDEZ