along silently by the side of Haguna, an inexpressible joyfulness filled
his heart; the light, round, white clouds nestling in the deep bosom of
the sky, the faint, delicious odor of the woods, the rustling, murmuring
presence that forever dwelt there, all made him unspeakably glad and
light-hearted. As he rode, he began to sing a little song that he had
learned awhile before.

We rushed from the mountain,
The streamlet and I,
Restless, unquiet,
We scarcely knew why,--
Till we met a dear maiden,
Whose beauty divine
Stilled with great quiet
This wild heart of mine;
And awed and astonished
To peacefulness sweet,
The fierce mountain-torrent
Lay still at her feet."

"A right rare power for beauty to possess!" laughed Haguna. "Are you so
restless that you need this soothing, fair Sir?"

A deep, sweet smile gushed out from his eyes and illumined his face.
He stretched out his arms lovingly into the warm air, as if he thus
infolded some rich joy, and answered, musingly,--

"In ordinary action, thought, and feeling,--we are too conscious of
ourselves, we are perplexed with the miserable little 'I,' that, by
claiming deed and thought for its own work, makes it little and mean.