ASPIRO.--A FABLE.


Then my life was like a dream in which we guess at God-thoughts. I was
so completely absorbed in my love that I marked the lapse of time only
by the delicate varyings of my mistress's beauty, or the deepening spell
of her royal rule. I was delirious with the delight of her presence,
which comprised to me all types of excellence. Within her eyes the
sapphire gates of heaven unclosed to me; in the splendor of lustred hair
was life-warmth.

--And had I forgot?--the red lips I crushed like rose-leaves on my
own--the tender eyes that plead 'remember me'--the faded rosemary which
we culled together--the vows with which I said that love like ours was
never false, nor parting fatal. Had I forgot? Could this _Aspiro_ of my
worship quite dispel my youth-dream--had her infatuating presence quite
eclipsed my memory of Christine?--

Alas! I had not meant to be inconstant, but while I strove sullenly for
success in uncongenial occupation, _she_ came to me--Aspiro--came like
the truth and light, and taught me to myself.

For a long time I doubted and resisted; though she tempted me, making
real the dreams of my shy, worshipful childhood, teaching me the
meanings of treasured stories which I had listened to from flower-sprite
and river-god, leading and wooing me with lovelier lures than even
Nature's; for tropical bird-song and falling water was harsh to her