'And yet the present is so sweet. My imagination is as excited as if I
had drunk strong tea. I have no desire to go to bed. The night is soft
and warm as if it were August, the sky is cloudless but dimly veiled,
the breathing of the sea comes slow and deep, but the fountains fill up
the pauses. The loggia attracts me--shall we go out and dream a little,
my heart and I?--dream of what?
'The eyes of the Virgins and the Saints pursue me--deep-set, long and
narrow, with meekly downcast lids, from under which they gaze at one
with that charmed look--innocent as the dove, and yet a little side-long
like the serpent. "Be ye harmless as doves and wise as serpents," said
Our Lord--
'Yes, be wise--go, say your prayers, and then, to bed and sleep----
'_September 21st._--Alas, must the heavy task ever painfully begin again
from the beginning, the steep path be climbed, the battle that was won
fought over again!
'_September 22nd._--He has given me one of his poems, _The Story of the
Hermaphrodite_, the twenty-first of the twenty-five copies, printed on
vellum and with two proof engravings of the frontispiece.
'It is a remarkable work, enclosing a mystic and profound idea, although
the musical element predominates, entrancing the soul by the unfamiliar
magic of its melody, which envelopes the thoughts that shine out like a
glister of gold and diamonds through a limpid stream.
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