It was mine ignorance that made me fear thee.

A knowledge that is not in books seems to breathe around thee as an atmosphere.

How little have I read!--how little have I learned! Yet when thou art by my side, it seems as if the veil were lifted from all wisdom and all Nature.

I startle when I look even at the words I have written; they seem not to come from myself, but are the signs of another language which thou hast taught my heart, and which my hand traces rapidly, as at thy dictation.
Sometimes, while I write or muse, I could fancy that I heard light wings hovering around me, and saw dim shapes of beauty floating round, and vanishing as they smiled upon me.

No unquiet and fearful dream ever comes to me now in sleep, yet sleep and waking are alike but as one dream.