A fantasy novel by George MacDonald

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A FAERIE ROMANCE.                       233
Alas, how easily things go wrong I
A sigh too much, or a kiss too long,
And there follows a mist and a weeping rain,
And life is never the same again.
This was one of the simplest of her songs, which, perhaps, is the cause of my being able to remember it better than most of the others.
While she sung, I was in Elysium, with the sense of a rich soul upholding, embracing, and overhang­ing mine, full of all plenty and bounty. I felt as if she could give me everything I wanted; as if I should never wish to leave her, but would be content to be sung to and fed by her, day after day, as years rolled by. At last I fell asleep while she sang.
When I awoke, I knew not whether it was night or day. The fire had sunk to a few red embers, which l"ust gave light enough to show me the woman stand­ing a few feet from me, with her back towards me, facing the door by which I had entered. She was weep­ing, but very gently and plentifully. The tears seemed to come freely from her heart. Thus she stood for a few minutes; then, slowly turning at right angles to her former position, she faced another of the four sides of the cottage. I now observed for the first time, that here was a door likewise; and that, indeed, there was one in the centre of every side of the cot-
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