A Time when all that is not yet may be.
* * * * *
With trembling sigh, from happiness too great,
I all unknowing broke the mystic spell,
And shivering back, through dark and dreary ways,
No Moon to guide the weary feet, no Light
To cheer the falling spirit, once again
Within dull clay poor Psyche found her home,
And woke to bitter loneliness and woe.
She had in truth a rough awakening from her dream of happiness. As day by day the restless monarch showed more and more the change in his feelings that perfect vision had wrought, Fidunia not only passed through the deep waters of sorrow in realizing his alienation, but experienced moreover a fresh and equally poignant pain as the veil of illusion fell from her disenchanted eyes, and taught the simple-hearted young girl that she could never again regard her monarch with the same trusting faith.