There the dull red cipher glowed, on the very door of their secret chamber.

Struck with agony, I dashed it open, and fell at the feet of the ancient woman, who still spun on, the whole dissolved ocean of my sighs bursting from me in a storm of tearless sobs.

Whether I fainted or slept, I do not know; but, as I returned to consciousness, before I seemed to have power to move, I heard the woman singing, and could distinguish the words: O light of dead and of dying days! O Love! in thy glory go, In a rosy mist and a moony maze, O'er the pathless peaks of snow.
But what is left for the cold gray soul, That moans like a wounded dove?
One wine is left in the broken bowl!-- 'Tis--TO LOVE, AND LOVE AND LOVE.
Now I could weep.

When she saw me weeping, she sang: Better to sit at the waters' birth, Than a sea of waves to win; To live in the love that floweth forth, Than the love that cometh in.
Be thy heart a well of love, my child, Flowing, and free, and sure; For a cistern of love, though undefiled, Keeps not the spirit pure.
I rose from the earth, loving the white lady as I had never loved her before.
Then I walked up to the door of Dismay, and opened it, and went out.

And lo! I came forth upon a crowded street, where men and women went to and fro in multitudes.