"The end of my room seemed to have disappeared, and I looked out into boundless space. It looked misty but bright, as if the sun was shining behind a light fog. There were shifting wisps of fog blowing lightly about, and these wisps seemed to gather into the forms of a man and a woman. The figures were perfectly clear and lifelike—I recognized them both. The man was dressed in dark every-day clothes, the woman in rather flowing black; her face was partly hidden on his breast; one arm was laid around his neck; both his arms were around her, and he was looking down at her, smiling very tenderly. They seemed to be surrounded by a sort of rosy atmosphere; a large, very bright star was above their heads—not in the heavens, but just over them; tall rose bushes heavy with red roses in full bloom grew up about them, and the falling petals were heaped up around their feet. Then the man bent his head and kissed her. "The vision was extraordinarily clear and I thought I would write it down at once. I turned on the light by my bedside, took pencil and paper lying there and wrote, as I supposed, _practically what I have written here_. I then got up, was up some minutes, went back to bed, and after a while to sleep. The clock struck four soon after getting back into bed. I do not think I experienced any emotion at the moment of seeing the vision, but after writing it down I did. "The next morning I picked up the paper to read over what I had written and was amazed at the language and the rhythm. This is what I had written: "‘Last night I waked from sleep quite suddenly, And though my brain was clear my limbs were tranced. Beyond the walls of my familiar room I gazed outward into luminous space. Before my staring eyes two forms took shape, Vague, shadowy, slowly gathering from the mists, Until I saw before me, you—my Love! And folded to your breast in close embrace Was she, that other, whom I may not name. A rosy light bathed you in waves of love; Above your heads there shone a glowing star; Red roses shed their leaves about your feet. And as I gazed with eyes that could not weep You bent your head and laid your lips on hers. And my rent soul’ ... [Apparently unfinished.] “The thoughts were the same as my conscious thoughts had been—the vision was well described—but the language was entirely different from anything I had thought, and the writing expressed the emotion which I had not consciously experienced in seeing the vision, but which (I have since learned) I had felt during the dream, and which I did consciously feel _after_ writing. When I wrote I meant simply to state the facts of the vision.”[105]