That was the burden which this gift laid upon Thyrsis. He soon
discovered that these visions of wonder came but once, and that when
they were gone, they were gone forever. And he must learn to grapple
with them as they fled, to labor with them and to hold them fast, at
the cost of whatever heartbreaking strain. Thus alone could men have
even the feeblest reflexion of their beauty--upon which to feed
their souls forever after.

Section 7. These things came at the same time as another development
in Thyrsis' life, likewise portentous and unexpected. Boyhood was
gone, and manhood had come. There was a bodily change taking place
in him--he became aware of it with a start, and with the strangest
and most uncomfortable thrills. He did not know what to make of it,
or what to do about it; nor did he know where to turn for advice.

He tried to put it aside, as a thing of no importance. But it would
not be put aside--it was of vast importance. He discovered new
desires in himself, impulses that dominated him in a most disturbing
way. He found that he took a new interest in women and young girls;
he wanted to linger near them, and their glances caused him strange
emotions. He resented this, as an invasion of his privacy; it was
inconsistent with his hermit-instinct. Thyrsis wished no women in
his life save the muses with their star-sewn garments. He had been
fond of a line from a sonnet to Milton:

"Thy soul was like a Star, and dwelt apart."

But instead of this, what awful humiliations! In a summer-resort
where he found himself, there was a girl of not very gentle