The Moon Gazed On My

Ennui, The Demon, Waited At The Threshold Of His Noiseless Refuge, And Drove Away The Stirring Hopes And Enlivening Expectations, Which Form The Better Part Of Life.

I Required Kindness And Sympathy, But I Did Not Believe Myself Utterly Unworthy Of It.

Every Where I See Bliss, From Which I Alone Am Irrevocably Excluded.

Even Where The Affections Are Not Strongly Moved By Any Superior Excellence, The Companions Of Our Childhood Always Possess A Certain Power Over Our Minds Which Hardly Any Later Friend Can Obtain. They Know Our Infantine Dispositions, Which, However They May Be Afterwards Modified, Are Never Eradicated; And They Can Judge Of Our Actions With More Certain Conclusions As To The Integrity Of Our Motives.

Allow Me Now To Return To The Cottagers, Whose Story Excited In Me Such Various Feelings Of Indignation, Delight, And Wonder, But Which All Terminated In Additional Love And Reverence For My Protectors (for So I Loved, In An Innocent, Half Painful Self-deceit, To Call Them).