The stars were all out.

There was not a sound other than the de Profundis, still sounding from very far away.

At long intervals the great earth sighed dreamily in its sleep.

All about, the feeling of absolute peace and quiet and security and untroubled happiness and content seemed descending from the stars like a benediction.

The beauty of his poem, its idyl, came to him like a caress; that alone had been lacking.