DISSOLUTION
Again I am carried back over the indifferent liquid sea. When I am dead, nothing can hurt me. When I shall be interred between my father and mother, nothing will make me suffer more. They cannot jeer any longer at this too ardent heart. The sacrament of my body will dissolve in the interior of the earth; but, like a most piercing cry, my soul will repose in the bosom of Abraham. Now everything is dissolved, and with a dull and heavy eye I search about me in vain for the familiar land and the firm road under my feet,—and for that unkind face! The sky is nothing but fog, and Space is nothing but water! You see it! Everything is blurred; and all about me I must search in vain for line or form. For a horizon there is nothing but the cessation of color in darkness. All matter is resolved into water alone, like the tears I feel coursing down my cheeks. All sound is like the murmur of sleep when it breathes to us all that is most crushing to our hopes. I shall have searched in vain, I shall find nothing more beyond me—neither that country which might have been my home, nor that well-loved face!