Come beneath the shadows, John.' I would have leaped into the valley of the shadow of death (as described by the late John Bunyan), only to hear her call me 'John'; though Apollyon were lurking there, and Despair should lock me in.
She stole across the silent grass; but I strode hotly after her; fear was all beyond me now, except the fear of losing her.

I could not but behold her manner, as she went before me, all her grace, and lovely sweetness, and her sense of what she was.
She led me to her own rich bower, which I told of once before; and if in spring it were a sight, what was it in summer glory?
But although my mind had notice of its fairness and its wonder, not a heed my heart took of it, neither dwelt it in my presence more than flowing water.

All that in my presence dwelt, all that in my heart was felt, was the maiden moving gently, and afraid to look at me.
For now the power of my love was abiding on her, new to her, unknown to her; not a thing to speak about, nor even to think clearly; only just to feel and wonder, with a pain of sweetness.

She could look at me no more, neither could she look away, with a studied manner--only to let fall her eyes, and blush, and be put out with me, and still more with herself.
I left her quite alone; though close, though tingling to have hold of her.

Even her right hand was dropped and lay among the mosses.