A very mild breeze had sprung up after the
extreme heat. A sunset of the melting kind was succeeded by a
perfectly clear moon-rise. Here I sat, and thought of Raphael.
I was drawn high up in the heaven of beauty, and the mists
were dried from the white plumes of contemplation.'#/
'Only by emotion do we know thee, Nature. To lean upon thy
heart, and feel its pulses vibrate to our own;--that is
knowledge, for that is love, the love of infinite beauty, of
infinite love. Thought will never make us be born again.
'My fault is that I think I feel _too much_. O that my friends
would teach me that "simple art of not too much!" How can I
expect them to bear the ceaseless eloquence of my nature?'
* * * * *
'Often it has seemed that I have come near enough to the
limits to see what they are. But suddenly arises afar the Fata
Morgana, and tells of new Sicilies, of their flowery valleys
and fields of golden grain. Then, as I would draw near, my
little bark is shattered on the rock, and I am left on the
cold wave. Yet with my island in sight I do not sink.'
* * * * *
'I look not fairly to myself, at the present moment.
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