I stood still and looked; not with fear--to love and fear for what we love, is to be raised beyond all dread--but I felt dazzled with the ceaseless lightning, and dizzy with the tumult of the tempest; the heavy rain beat full in my face and blinded me; the strong gale rose against me in all its might. I could not move on; I could not turn back, seek shelter, or proceed; for a moment I yielded to the burst of the storm, and let the elements wreak their fury on my bowed head. But a thought stronger than even their power, more fearful than their wildest wrath, was on me. I drew down my hood, wrapped my cloak closer around me, and again went on drenched with the pouring rain, and often arrested, but never driven back by the impetuous blast. The storm was violent and brief. Soon the wind fell; the rain grew less heavy; the lightning less frequent and vivid; the thunder slowly retreated; the sky cleared, and melted into soft clouds, behind which, for the first time, shone the watery moon. She looked down on me with a wan and troubled face, boding sorrow; her dim light filled the path I now followed; on either side, like gloomy giants, rose the dark trees; the rain had ceased, but as I passed swiftly beneath the dripping boughs, they seemed shaken by an invisible hand to dash their chill dew-drops in my face. The smell of the wet earth rose strong on the humid air; in the ditch by me, I heard water flowing with a low, gurgling sound, and every now and then I came across a shallow pool lit with a pale and trembling moonbeam. The storm had not terrified me, but now my courage sank. This chill calm after the fury of the tempest; this sound of water faintly flowing, following on tumult so loud, seemed to me to speak of sorrow, death and utter desolation. The nearer I drew to the end of my journey, the more my heart failed me. As I turned down into the lane that led home, the church-clock struck twelve; every stroke sounded like a funeral knell on my ear; then a dog began to howl plaintively. I turned cold and sick--as a child, I had heard that this was a token of death. Oh! with what slow and weary steps, I drew near that door towards which I had hastened through all the anger of the storm, and which my heart now dreaded to reach. As I stood by it, my limbs trembled, my very flesh quivered, my blood seemed to have ceased to flow, my heart to beat, cold dew-drops gathered and stood on my brow, and something, an inward struggle, an agony without a name rose to my lips, and made one gasp for breath, but could not pass them. Twice I stretched out my hand to ring, and twice it fell powerless. I sank down on my knees; I uttered a passionate prayer: I asked--what will not the heart ask for?--for an impossible boon. "Even if he is to die. Oh God, do not let him die; even though he shall be dead, do not let him be dead!"