I am loosed.

But do not on this account think I am sorrowful; nay, for I have nothing to sorrow for.
Is there no bright hope at a distance which cheers me onward and beckons me to speed?
I dare not say.

Sometimes I feel so--it is the unutterable.

Yet I remain contented to be without spring or autumn, youth or age.

One tie has been loosened after another; the dreams of my youth have passed away silently, and the visions of the future I then beheld have vanished.