Where was the sin, at least, to think of thee,--to see thee?
Thy kiss still glows upon my hand; is that hand mine to bestow?
Thy kiss claimed and hallowed it to thyself.

Stranger, I will NOT obey thee.
....
"Another day,--one day of the fatal three is gone! It is strange to me that since the sleep of the last night, a deep calm has settled upon my breast.

I feel so assured that my very being is become a part of thee, that I cannot believe that my life can be separated from thine; and in this conviction I repose, and smile even at thy words and my own fears.

Thou art fond of one maxim, which thou repeatest in a thousand forms,--that the beauty of the soul is faith; that as ideal loveliness to the sculptor, faith is to the heart; that faith, rightly understood, extends over all the works of the Creator, whom we can know but through belief; that it embraces a tranquil confidence in ourselves, and a serene repose as to our future; that it is the moonlight that sways the tides of the human sea.

That faith I comprehend now.