CHAPTER V
September 1806—December 1807
Alas! for some abiding-place of love,
O'er which my spirit, like the mother dove,
Might brood with warming wings!
S. T. C.
DREAMS AND SHADOWS
I had a confused shadow rather than an image in my recollection, like that from a thin cloud, as if the idea were descending, though still in some measureless height.
As when the taper's white cone of flame is seen double, till the eye moving brings them into one space and then they become one—so did the idea in my imagination coadunate with your present form soon after I first gazed upon you.
And in life's noisiest hour
There whispers still the ceaseless love of thee,
The heart's self-solace and soliloquy.