inous roof above me of branches, and twigs, and leaves--the bird
and insect world uplifted over mine, with its own landscapes, its own
thickets, and paths, and glades, and dwellings; its own bird-ways and
insect-delights. Great boughs crossed my path; great roots based the
tree-columns, and mightily clasped the earth, strong to lift and strong
to uphold. It seemed an old, old forest, perfect in forest ways and
pleasures. And when, in the midst of this ecstacy, I remembered that
under some close canopy of leaves, by some giant stem, or in some mossy
cave, or beside some leafy well, sat the lady of the marble, whom my
songs had called forth into the outer world, waiting (might it not
be?) to meet and thank her deliverer in a twilight which would veil her
confusion, the whole night became one dream-realm of joy, the central
form of which was everywhere present, although unbeheld. Then,
remembering how my songs seemed to have called her from the marble,
piercing through the pearly shroud of alabaster--"Why," thought I,
"should not my voice reach her now, through the ebon night that
inwraps her." My voice burst into song so spontaneously that it seemed
involuntarily.

"Not a sound
But, echoing in me,
Vibrates all around
With a blind delight,
Till it breaks on Thee,
Queen of Night!

Every tree,
O'ershadowing with gloom,
Seems to cover thee
Secret, dark, love-still'd,
In a holy room
Silence-filled.

"Let no moon
Creep up the heaven to-night;
I in darksome noon
Walking hopefully,
Seek my shrouded light--
Grope for thee!

"Darker grow
The borders of the dark!
Through the branches glow,
From the roof above,
Star and diamond-sparks
Light for love."

Scarcely had the last sounds floated away from the hearing of my own
ears, when I heard instead a low delicious laugh near me. It was not the
laugh of one who would not be heard, but the laugh of one who has just
received something long and patiently desired--a laugh that ends in
a low musical moan. I started, and, turning sideways, saw a dim white
figure seated beside an intertwining thicket of smaller trees and
underwood.

"It is my white lady!" I said, and flu