her. I thought that I should melt away
in tears. It seemed as if she smiled upon me. I now for the first time
know what gratitude is."

"O beloved, Heaven has given me thee to adore. I worship thee. Thou art
the holy one that carriest my wishes to God, through whom He reveals
himself to me, through whom He makes known to me the fulness of His
love. What is religion but an infinite harmony, an eternal unison of
loving hearts? Where two are gathered together, He is indeed among
them. Thou wilt be my breath eternally. My bosom will never cease to
draw thee to itself. Thou art divine majesty, eternal life in the
loveliest of forms."

"Alas, Henry, thou knowest the fate of the roses. Wilt thou also press
the pale cheek, the withered lips, with tenderness to thy own? Will not
the traces of age be also the traces of bygone love?"

"O that thou couldst see through my eyes into my spirit! But thou
lovest me, and canst also believe me. I cannot comprehend what is said
of the withering of charms. They are unfading! That which draws me so
inseparably to thee, that has awakened in me such everlasting desire,
is not of this world. Couldst thou but see how thou appearest to me,
what a wonderful form penetrates thy shape, and everywhere is raying
towards me, thou wouldst not fear age. Thy earthly shape is but a
shadow of this form. The earthly faculties strive and swell that they
may incarnate it; but nature is yet unripe; the form is only an eternal
archetype, a fragment of the unknown holy world."

"I understand thee, dear Henry, for I see something similar when I look
upon thee."

"Yes, Matilda, the higher world is nearer to us than we usually
believe. Here already we live in it, and we see it closely interwoven
with our earthly nature."

"Thou wilt yet reveal much that is glorious to me, beloved?"

"O! Matilda, from thee alone cometh the gift of divination. Everything
that I have is indeed thine. Thy love will lead me into the sanctuaries
of life, and the most sacred recesses of the mind; thou wilt fill me
with enthusiasm, wilt excite me to the highest contemplation. Who knows
that our love will not change to wings of flame bearing us upward, and
carrying us to our heavenly home, ere old age and death reach us? Is it
not a miracle already that thou art mine, that I hold thee in my arms,
that thou lovest me, and that thou wilt be mine forever?"

"To me also everything seems possible, and I plainly feel a gentle
flame kind