Дні мрій

           Wegrippedtheredclothinfrontofus,andoursoulsspedroundandroundwithCoralie,leapingwithher,pronewithher,swungbymaneortailwithher.Itwasnotonlytheravishmentofherdeliriousfeats,norhercreamcolouredhorseoffairybreed,long-tailed,roe-footed,anenchantedprincesurely,ifevertherewasone!Itwashermorethanmortalbeauty—displayed,too,underconditionsnevervouchsafedtousbefore—thatheldusspell-bound.Whatprincesshadarmssodazzlinglywhite,orwentdelicatelyclothedinsuchpinkandspangles?Hithertowehadknowntheoutwardwomanasbutadrabthing,hour-glassshaped,nearlylegless,bunchedhere,constrictedthere;slowofmovement,andgiventodeprecatinglustyactionoflimb.Herewasarevelation!Fromhenceforthourimaginationswouldhavetoberevisedandcorrecteduptodate.Inoneofthoseswiftrushesthemindmakesinhigh-strungmoments,IsawmyselfandCoralie,closeenfolded,pacingtheworldtogether,o’erhillandplain,throughstoriedcities,pastrowsofapplaudingrelations,—IinmySundayknickerbockers,sheinherpinkandspangles.

           Summerssicken,flowersfailanddie,allbeautybutridesroundtheringandoutattheportal;evensoCoraliepassedinherturn,poisedsideways,panting,onhersteed;lightlyswayedasatulip-bloom,bowingonthissideandonthatasshedisappeared;andwithherwentmyheartandmysoul,andallthelightandthegloryandtheentrancementofthescene.

           Haroldwokeupwithagasp.“Wasn’tshebeautiful?”hesaid,inquiteasubduedwayforhim.Ifeltamomentarypang.