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Ossoli, Margaret Fuller, 1810-1850

"Memoirs of Margaret Fuller Ossoli, Volume II"

My
only chance, however, lay in motion, and my only help in myself; and
so convinced was I of this, that I did keep in motion the whole of
that long night, imprisoned as I was on such a little perch of that
great mountain.
For about two hours, I saw the stars, and very cheery and
companionable they looked; but then the mist fell, and I saw nothing
more, except such apparitions as visited Ossian, on the hill-side,
when he went out by night, and struck the bosky shield, and called to
him the spirits of the heroes, and the white-armed maids, with their
blue eyes of grief. To me, too, came those visionary shapes. Floating
slowly and gracefully, their white robes would unfurl from the great
body of mist in which they had been engaged, and come upon me with a
kiss pervasively cold as that of death. Then the moon rose. I could
not see her, but her silver light filled the mist. Now I knew it was
two o'clock, and that, having weathered out so much of the night, I
might the rest; and the hours hardly seemed long to me more.
It may give an idea of the extent of the mountain, that, though I
called, every now and then, with all my force, in case by chance some
aid might be near, and though no less than twenty men, with their
dogs, were looking for me, I never heard a sound, except the rush of
the waterfall and the sighing of the night wind, and once or twice
the startling of the grouse in the heather.


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