Nature she would tell me
of this daughter of hers--so enchanting, yet so shy--and I might even
one day surprise Her on the hill-slopes, or meet Her as She wandered
among the green, winding lanes.

So I presently became a haunter of the tree-clad valleys, of the
prattling brooks with the meadowsweet drooping over them, and of the
lone, bleak hills where the great wind growled.

Many mornings did I steal out long before the sunrise in order to watch
the stars die out in the dawning and the red bars glow in the
palpitating east. And when, standing among the firs in the windy
plantation, I saw the huge sun rear its head and flood the world with
splendour, and heard the birds sing jubilantly, almost breathless with
delight, I have fancied I felt the breath of the Beloved One on my
cheek and Her heart beating wildly and tremulously against my own. But
it was only fancy. Presently the singing dwindled and became fainter:
the air grew hot beneath the aromatic fir-boughs: and when, in the
distance, the flood of dazzling sunlight dashed redly on the
window-panes of the village cottages, I knew I must descend from the
haunted hill-top and return to the more prosaic details of life. If She
had flown past me, brushing me with Her garments in passing, I had not
yet discovered Her as a possession that I could grasp.

Then I said to myself, I shall find Her among my girl-friends: among
their rustling garments I shall hear _Her_ garments rustle; and from
among the laughing eyes with which they bewilder me, I shall no doubt
be able to single out _Hers_.

I chose the pleasantest of the maidens who fluttered through my world;
and I knew her beautiful, and I believed her to be true. But that old
clown Circumstance was piping in the market-place, shewing his
cheap-jack wares to catch the fancies of the maidens, and my sweetheart,
caught in the excitement of the moment, presently paid down for one of
his flashy baubles no less a price than her own young heart.

Then I said, I will look abroad in the market-place myself. Through the
clatter of feet and the babble of many voices, I may perhaps catch a
whisper, a hint of Her presence. Possibly She may love the eager haunts
of men even more than She loves the silent haunt of the wood-dove and
the great wide moors where the kite circles slowly. I will move among my
fellows and will search for Her there.

But the market-place with its thud, thud, thud of many feet, and its
clatter of vehicle