we may
well call sadness, but there is a rapture in this sadness which only
those know who have loved and suffered much. Ask the mother what she
feels when she ties upon the head of her daughter the veil _she_ once
wore as a bride, and thinks of the husband no longer with her! Ask a man
what he feels when the maiden whom he has loved, and the world has torn
from him, sends him after death the dried rose which he gave her in
youth! They may both weep, but their tears are not tears of sorrow, but
tears of joy; tears of sacrifice, with which man consecrates himself to
the Divine, and with faith in God's love and wisdom, looks upon the
dearest he has passing away from him.

Still let us go back in memory, back in the living presence of the past.
The two days flew so swiftly that I was agitated, as the happiness of
seeing her again drew nearer and nearer. As the carriages and horsemen
arrived on the first day from the city, I saw that the castle was alive
with gaily-dressed visitors. Banners fluttered from the roof, music
sounded through the castle-yard. In the evening, the lake swarmed with
pleasure-boats. The moennerchors sounded over the waves, and I could not
but listen, for I fancied she also listened to these songs from the
window. Everything was stirring, also, on the second day, and early in
the afternoon the guests prepared for departure. Late in the evening I
saw the Hofrath's carriage also going back alone to the city. I could
not restrain myself any longer, I knew she was alone. I knew she thought
of me, and longed for me. Should I allow one night to pass without at
least pressing her hand, without saying to her that the separation was
over, that the next morning would waken us to new rapture. I still saw a
light in her window--why should she be alone? Why should I not, for one
moment at least, feel her sweet presence? Already I stood at the castle;
already I was about to pull the bell--then suddenly I stopped and said:
"No! no weakness! You should be ashamed to stand before her like a thief
in the night. Early in the morning go to her like a hero, returning from
battle, for whom she is now weaving the crown of love, which she will
place upon thy head in the morning."

And the morning came--and I was with her, really with her. Oh, speak not
of the spirit as if it could exist without the body. Complete existence,
consciousness, and enjoyment, can only be where body and soul are one--an
embodie