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A FAERIE ROMANCE. 145 |
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XIII.
I saw a ship sailing upon the sea, Deeply laden as ship could be ; But not so deep as in love I am, For I care not whether I sink or swim.
Old Ballad. |
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But Love is such a Mystery
I cannot find it out: For when I think I'm best resolv'd,
I then am in most doubt.
Sir John Suckling.
One story I will try to reproduce. But, alas! it is like trying to reconstruct a forest out of broken branches and withered leaves. In the fairy book, everything was just as it should be, though whether in words or something else, I cannot tell. It glowed and flashed the thoughts upon the soul, with such a power that the medium disappeared from the consciousness, and it was occupied only with the things themselves. My representation of it must resemble a translation from a rich and powerful language, capable of embodying the thoughts of a splendidly
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