echoes-though

Updated: July 7, 2026

I bounded, without a consciousness, through the now still and dreary streets, and found myself, without intending it, once more beside the river, whose constant melancholy chidings, seemed the echoes-though in the faintest possible degree of the deep waters of some apprehensive sorrow then rolling through all the channels of my soul. What was it that I feared? What was it that I sought?

William Gilmore Simms - Confession, or, the Blind Heart; a Domestic Story