A rush, a foam of recollections!--Sweet Yillah gone, and I bereaved.
Another interval, and that mood was past.

Misery became a memory.

The keen pang a deep vibration.

The remembrance seemed the thing remembered; though bowed with sadness.

There are thoughts that lie and glitter deep: tearful pearls beneath life's sea, that surges still, and rolls sunlit, whatever it may hide.