I live of myself and by myself.

I feel by the spirit; I breathe through my brow; I see by thought; I die of impatience and of longing.
No one here below can fulfil my desires or calm my griefs.

I have forgotten how to weep.

I am alone.

I resign myself, and I wait." Seraphitus looked at the flowery mound on which he had seated Minna; then he turned and faced the frowning heights, whose pinnacles were wrapped in clouds; to them he cast, unspoken, the remainder of his thoughts.
"Minna, do you hear those delightful strains ?" he said after a pause, with the voice of a dove, for the eagle's cry was hushed; "it is like the music of those Eolian harps your poets hang in forests and on the mountains.