I imagined that I bore my chalice safely through a throng of foes. Her name sprang to my lips atmoments in strange prayers and praises which I myself did not understand. My eyes were oftenfull of tears (I could not tell why) and at times a flood from my heart seemed to pour itself out intomy bosom. I thought little of the future. I did not know whether I would ever speak to her or not or,if I spoke to her, how I could tell her of my confused adoration. But my body was like a harp andher words and gestures were like fingers running upon the wires.