moodiest mind,
Their own pure joys impart;
Their sunshine leaves a glow behind
That lightens o'er the heart.'"

Would luck ever come? Would it ever come? What would be the
outcome? Jim tried to plan for the approaching emergency, but the
best he could do was to struggle to conceal the acute case of
chills and fever then torturing his weak body and adding confusion
to his dazed mind. The reader proceeded:

"'All the deep feelings of the lover have been experienced by the
poets, and to them we must turn to find words attuned to the
harmonies surging within, clamoring for expression, where passion has
just been born. These gifted singers have searched the human heart as
only genius can and have given their songs as a universal heritage to
all who feel the melting murmurs. If there is aught of inspiration in
their words, it belongs to me as the harper's music belonged to Byron
when he craved it:

"'My soul is dark--oh! quickly string
The harp I yet can brook to hear;
And let thy gentle fingers fling
Its melting murmurs o'er mine ear.
If in this heart a hope be dear,
That sound shall charm it forth again;
If in those eyes there lurk a tear,
'Twill flow and cease to burn my brain.'

"'And how natural, Margaret, it is for the man steeped in love as I
am to search out consolation amid the sweet concord of poetry. And so
seeking the thought attuned to mine, I also say:

"'But let the strain be wild and deep,
Nor let the notes of joy be first;
I tell thee, minstrel, I must weep,
Or else this heavy heart will burst;
For it hath been by sorrow nursed,
And ached in sleepless silence long;
And now 'tis doomed to know the worst
And break at once--or yield to song.'

"'My writing is usually over at midnight, and when I have returned
from the corner, where I post the letter, I sit me down in the
darkness to ponder on what I have composed. How dull it seems to me
then; how poorly expressed these sentiments too deep for words of
mine, and not always within range of such poetry as I can find! Moods
are so fleeting, too; some tender thought passes over me and for a
moment I am lost in the rare atmosphere of mountain-tops to which it
summons me. When I come to tell of this magic wrought by your
innocent witchery, I find it quite impossible to explain, as the
essence of m