For a long time I sat perfectly still , waiting till it should reappear , and fearful that the slightest motion , or even the flutter of my breath , might frighten it away . Thus have I often started from a pleasant dream , and then kept quiet , in hopes to wile it back . Deep were my musings , as to the race and attributes of that ethereal being . Had I created her ? Was she the daughter of my fancy , akin to those strange shapes which peep under the lids of children 's eyes ? And did her beauty gladden me , for that one moment , and then die ? Or was she a water-nymph within the fountain , or fairy , or woodland goddess peeping over my shoulder , or the ghost of some forsaken maid , who had drowned herself for love ? Or , in good truth , had a lovely girl , with a warm heart , and lips that would bear pressure , stolen softly behind me , and thrown her image into the spring ? I watched and waited , but no vision came again . I departed , but with a spell upon me , which drew me back , that same afternoon , to the haunted spring . There was the water gushing , the sand sparkling , and the sunbeam glimmering . There the vision was not , but only a great frog , the hermit of that solitude , who immediately withdrew his speckled snout and made himself invisible , all except a pair of long legs , beneath a stone . Methought he had a devilish look ! I could have slain him ! Thus did the Vision leave me ; and many a doleful day succeeded to the parting moment . By the spring , and in the wood , and on the hill , and through the village ; at dewy sunrise , burning noon , and at that magic hour of sunset , when she had vanished from my sight , I sought her , but in vain . Weeks came and went , months rolled away , and she appeared not in them . I imparted my mystery to none , but wandered to and fro , or sat in solitude , like one that had caught a glimpse of heaven , and could take no more joy on earth . I withdrew into an inner world , where my thoughts lived and breathed , and the Vision in the midst of them . Without intending it , I became at once the author and hero of a romance , conjuring up rivals , imagining events , the actions of others and my own , and experiencing every change of passion , till jealousy and despair had their end in bliss .
O , had I the burning fancy XXXXX my early youth , with manhood 's colder gift , the power of expression , your hearts , sweet ladies , should flutter at my tale !
Without beneath except in like of on through to upon