Page:Francesca Carrara 2.pdf/133

130 had left the chamber. At last I bade her father good night; but when in the garden which surrounded their dwelling, a sudden impulse made me long to gaze on her window. More than once had I seen her shadow fall upon the lattice with a darkness lovelier than light. How well I remember the quiet beauty of the hour, the gentle rustle of the leaves, the changing perfume, as first one and then another scented plant imbued its fragrant atmosphere, now redolent of the rich carnation, now of the voluptuous spirit of the drooping rose! There was neither cloud nor star upon the sky, neither sign nor omen, but the deep blue air filled with moonlight—that clear flood of radiance known but to southern climates. The myrtle-boughs hung in long wreaths over her casement, every leaf shining with the dew that rested glittering at the edge. I leant against the trunk of an ilex near. I heard my heart beat in the silent night, but it was with happiness; a thousand voiceless blessings died on my lips, and all of them invoked on one beloved name. I marvelled how hate had ever found place within me. I looked not towards the dark blue heaven, but its ethereal beauty was mirrored on my soul,—all that was lovely, all that was loveable in nature, exercised their delicious influence on that charmed moment.