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Like curlew's wings flapped the white sails of the ship on the blue waters. Aspiro's eyes absorbed my mind and memory. The past was voiceless the future clarion-toned. So we loosed our hold of the real past, and drifted toward an ideal future. We wandered through apocalyptic mazes, startling the hush of mystery with daring footsteps.
But I shut my dazzled eyes at first from these, and strove to see only the face whereon, with tender kisses, I had sealed my future having narrow aims; till the vision faded despairingly, and even closed lids would not recall it, and my weak resistance seemed but to strengthen the sway that bore me willingly away. Over and over I told the rosary of Aspiro's charms.
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