has lost it beauty and earth and heaven scowl fierce and hateful through the tangled wreck.
One morning when I awoke I was alone. The light was gone; the air seemed cold and thick and the wild winds of the world swept over me. It was surely a dream. I could not be awake. And where was she who was clasped over night in my arms? She could not have gone! How could I think so? No; it was a dream! She was still at my side, and I would kiss her. But nay! I turned and kissed, and kissed a clammy stone! Yet how could she have gone? Had she not sworn to stay? Did she not love me? Was she not mine? Why: I had clasped her close a hundred times. Her last words had been words of love; and they at least had been neither dream nor fancy. I still felt the imprint of her good-night kiss. The touch of her warm hand was still fresh upon me. But she was gone!
I started up! Day had come again. It was no dream. She was gone. And
