Boston, May 19th, 1840
My dearest,
Where in the world art thou?—or hast thou flown away to Paradise, naughtiest Dove, without bidding thy husband farewell? I know not whereabout this letter will find thee; but I throw it upon the winds in the confidence that some breeze of Heaven will bear it to thee; for I suppose heart never spoke1 to heart, without being heard, and sooner or later finding a response. Perhaps some hearts that speak to other hearts here on earth may find no response till they have passed far into Eternity2; but our hearts catch each other's whispers even here. Happy we! But, belovedest, how is it that thou hast sent me no token of thy existence, since we parted on the Hoopers' doorstep, when thou didst press my hand without a word? It seems an age since then. Thou saidst, on Sunday, that thou shouldst probably return to Salem to-day; but surely thou hast not gone. I 192 feel lonely and not cheerful—my spirit knows not whereabout to seek thee, and so it shivers as if there were no Thou at all—as if my Dove had been only a dream and a vision, and now had vanished into unreality and nothingness.
But tomorrow I shall surely hear from thee: and even should it be otherwise, I shall yet know, with everlasting3 faith, that my Dove's heart has been trying to make me sensible of its embraces all this time. My dearest, was not that a sweet time—that Sabbath afternoon and eve? But why didst thou look up in my face, as we walked, and ask why I was so grave? If I was grave I know no cause for it, beloved. Lights and shadows are continually flitting across my inward sky, and I know neither whence they come nor whither they go; nor do I inquire too closely into them. It is dangerous to look too minutely at such phenomena4. It is apt to create a substance, where at first there was a mere5 shadow. If at any time, dearest wife, there should seem—though to me there never does—but if there should ever seem to be an expression unintelligible6 from one of our souls to another, we will not strive to interpret it into earthly language, but wait for the soul to make itself understood; and were we to wait a thousand years, we need deem it no more time than we can 193 spare. I speak only in reference to such dim and intangible matters as that which suggested this passage of my letter. It is not that I have any love for mystery; but because I abhor7 it—and because I have felt, a thousand times, that words may be a thick and darksome veil of mystery between the soul and the truth which it seeks. Wretched were we, indeed, if we had no better means of communicating ourselves, no fairer garb8 in which to array our essential selves, than these poor rags and tatters of Babel. Yet words are not without their use, even for purposes of explanation,—but merely for explaining outward acts, and all sorts of external things, leaving the soul's life and action to explain itself in its own way.
My belovedest, what a misty9 disquisition have I scribbled10! I would not read it over for sixpence. Think not that I supposed it necessary to sermonize thee so; but the sermon created itself from sentence to sentence; and being written, thou knowest that it belongs to thee, and I have no right to keep it back. Dearest, I was up very early this morning, and have had a good deal to do, especially this afternoon. Let me plead this excuse for my dulness and mistiness11. I suspect that, hereafter, my little Dove will know how to estimate the difficulty of pouring one's self out in 194 a soul-written letter, amid the distractions12 of business and society—she herself having experienced these checks upon her outpourings.
Now good bye, mine ownest wife. God bless us both—or may God bless either of us, and that one will bless the other. Dost thou sleep well now-a-nights, belovedest? Of whom dost thou dream? Thy husband's long days and short nights hardly leave him time to dream.
Thine Ownest.
Dearest, just as I was folding this letter, came thy note. Do thou be at the Depot13 as soon as possible after eleven; and I will move Heaven and earth to meet thee there. Perhaps a little before eleven.
Miss Sophia A. Peabody,
South Street.
点击收听单词发音
1 spoke | |
n.(车轮的)辐条;轮辐;破坏某人的计划;阻挠某人的行动 v.讲,谈(speak的过去式);说;演说;从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 eternity | |
n.不朽,来世;永恒,无穷 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 everlasting | |
adj.永恒的,持久的,无止境的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 phenomena | |
n.现象 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 unintelligible | |
adj.无法了解的,难解的,莫明其妙的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 abhor | |
v.憎恶;痛恨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 garb | |
n.服装,装束 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 misty | |
adj.雾蒙蒙的,有雾的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 scribbled | |
v.潦草的书写( scribble的过去式和过去分词 );乱画;草草地写;匆匆记下 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 mistiness | |
n.雾,模糊,不清楚 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 distractions | |
n.使人分心的事[人]( distraction的名词复数 );娱乐,消遣;心烦意乱;精神错乱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 depot | |
n.仓库,储藏处;公共汽车站;火车站 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |