and knows itself to be eternal. No power could tear her from my heart.
I felt that henceforward her image was completely mine; it was to me
what light is to the eye that has once seen it, air to the lungs that
have once inhaled it, or thought to the mind in which it has once been
conceived. I defied Heaven itself to rob me of this divine embodying of
my desires. I had seen her, and that was enough. For the contemplative,
to see is to enjoy. It scarcely mattered to me whether she loved me, or
whether she passed me by without perceiving me. I had been touched by
her splendor, and was still enveloped in her rays; she could no more
withdraw them from me than the sun can take from the earth the beams
which he has shed upon it. I felt that darkness and night had fled
forever from my heart, and that she would evermore shine there, as she
then shone, though I lived for a thousand years.




XVII.


This conviction gave to my love all the security of immutability, the
calm of certainty, the overflowing ecstasy of joy that would never be
impaired. I took no note of time, knowing that I had before me hours
without end, and that each in succession would give me back her inward
presence. I might be separated from her during a century without
reducing by one day the eternity of my love. I went and came; sat down
and got up again. I ran, then stopped and walked on without feeling the
ground beneath my feet, like those phantoms which glide upon earth,
upheld by their impalpable, ethereal nature. I extended my arms to
grasp the air, the light, the lake; I would have clasped all Nature in