"And she was smooth and full, as if one gush
Of life had washed her, or as if a sleep
Lay on her eyelid, easier to sweep
Than bee from daisy."
BEDDOIS' Pygmalion.
"Sche was as whyt as lylye yn May,
Or snow that sneweth yn wynterys day."
Romance of Sir Launfal.
I walked on, in the fresh morning air, as if new-born. The only thing
that damped my pleasure was a cloud of something between sorrow and
delight that crossed my mind with the frequently returning thought of my
last night's hostess. "But then," thought I, "if she is sorry, I could
not help it; and she has all the pleasures she ever had. Such a day as
this is surely a joy to her, as much at least as to me. And her life
will perhaps be the richer, for holding now within it the memory of what
came, but could not stay. And if ever she is a woman, who knows but
we may meet somewhere? there is plenty of room for meeting in the
universe."
Comforting myself thus, yet with a vague compunction, as if
I ought not to have left her, I went on. There was little to distinguish
the woods to-day from those of my own land; except that all the wild
things, rabbits, birds, squirrels, mice, and the numberless other
inhabitants, were very tame; that is, they did not run away from me, but
gazed at me as I passed, frequently coming nearer, as if to examine
me more closely.
Whether this came from utter ignorance, or from
familiarity with the human appearance of beings who never hurt them, I
could not tell. As I stood once, looking up to the splendid flower of
a parasite, which hung from the branch of a tree over my head, a large
white rabbit cantered slowly up, put one of its little feet on one of
mine, and looked up at me with its red eyes, just as I had been
looking up at the flower above me. I stooped and stroked it; but when
I attempted to lift it, it banged the ground with its hind feet and
scampered off at a great rate, turning, however, to look at me several
times before I lost sight of it. Now and then, too, a dim human figure
would appear and disappear, at some distance, amongst the trees, moving
like a sleep-walker. But no one ever came near me.
This day I found plenty of food in the forest--strange nuts and fruits
I had never seen before. I hesitated to eat them; but argued that, if
I could live on the air of Fairy Land, I could live on its food also. I
found my reasoning correct, and the result was better than I had hoped;
for it not only satisfied my hunger, but operated in such a way upon my
senses that I was brought into far more complete relationship with the
things around me. The human forms appeared much more dense and defined;
more tangibly visible, if I may say so. I seemed to know better which
direction to choose when any doubt arose. I began to feel in some degree
what the birds meant in their songs, though I could not express it in
words, any more than you can some landscapes. At times, to my surprise,
I found myself listening attentively, and as if it were no unusual
thing with me, to a conversation between two squirrels or monkeys.