I have counted one by one the fair and golden lashes that threw their tremulous shade upon it.

I have traced out with care in the subdued tone that surrounds her, the evanescent lines of her throat, so fragile and inclined so modestly.

I have even lifted with an adventuring hand the folds of her tunic, and have seen unveiled that bosom, maiden and full of milk, that has never been pressed by any except divine lips.
I have traced out the rare clear veins of it, even to their faintest branchings.

I have laid my finger on it, to draw the white drops forth, of the draught of heaven.

I have so much as touched with my lips the very bud of the_ rosa mystica.
'_Well, and I confess it honestly, all this immaterial beauty, this thing so winged and so aerial that one knows well enough it is soon going to fly away from one, has never moved me to any great degree.