The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 5.
John Greenleaf Whittier, Ed.

[287] from the thousand voiceless but eloquent signs which marked our interviews, that I was beloved, made me anxious to deceive even myself, by investing her with those gifts of the intellect and the heart, without which her very love would have degraded its object. It is not in human nature, at least it was not in mine, to embitter the delicious aliment which is offered to our vanity, by admitting any uncomfortable doubts of the source from which it is derived.

And thus it was that I came on, careless and secure, dreaming over and over the same bright dream; without any doubt, without fear, and in the perfect confidence of an unlimited trust, until the mask fell off, all at once; without giving me time for preparation, without warning or interlude; and the features of cold, heartless, systematic treachery glared full upon me.

I saw her wedded to another. It was a beautiful morning; and never had the sun shone down on a gayer assemblage than that which gathered together at the village church. I witnessed the imposing ceremony which united the only one being I had ever truly loved to a happy and favored, because more wealthy, rival. As the gray-haired man pronounced the inquiring challenge, “If any man can show just cause why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak or else forever after hold his peace,” I struggled forward, and would have cried out, but the words died away in my throat. And the ceremony went on, and the death-like trance into which I had fallen was broken by the voice of the priest: “ I ”