He continues, tho’ not aloud,— There is a Countryside in my Thoughts, populated with agreeable Company, mapped with Romantick scenery, Standing-Stones and broken Archways, cedar and Yew, shaded Streams, and meadows a-riot with wild-flowers,— holding therein assemblies and frolicks . . . and each time, somewhere by surprize goes Rebekah, ever at a distance, but damme ’tis she, and a moment passes in which we have each recognized the other,— my breath goes away, I turn to Marble,—
