VI.

A change came o'er the spirit of my dream. The Wanderer was returned.--I saw him stand Before an Altar--with a gentle bride; Her face was fair, but was not that which made The Starlight[49] of his Boyhood;--as he stood Even at the altar, o'er his brow there came The self-same aspect, and the quivering shock[50] 150 That in the antique Oratory shook His bosom in its solitude; and then-- As in that hour--a moment o'er his face The tablet of unutterable thoughts Was traced,--and then it faded as it came, And he stood calm and quiet, and he spoke The fitting vows, but heard not his own words, And all things reeled around him; he could see Not that which was, nor that which should have been-- But the old mansion, and the accustomed hall, 160 And the remembered chambers, and the place, The day, the hour, the sunshine, and the shade, All things pertaining to that place and hour And her who was his destiny, came back And thrust themselves between him and the light: What business had they there at such a time?