There was nothing more in life to make me love it or keep me prisoner in its weary chains.

This prospect of near death faded in time; love of life returned, and the earth had recovered its everlasting freshness and beauty; only that feeling about Rima's ashes did not fade or change, and is as strong now as it was then.

Say that it is morbid--call it superstition if you like; but there it is, the most powerful motive I have known, always in all things to be taken into account--a philosophy of life to be made to fit it.

Or take it as a symbol, since that may come to be one with the thing symbolized.

In those darkest days in the forest I had her as a visitor--a Rima of the mind, whose words when she spoke reflected my despair.