. Sixty and six : chips from literary workshops . H Ibuman Spar?? HENRIQUE met her in the crowded street. Their sleevestouched. Her eyes met his. To this day he cannot remember the color of herhair. He has forgotten her face and form. Her name henever knew. Their eyes spoke each to the other, as the sunlightwhispers to the dewdrop. In an instant she was gone, and he was going. Henrique was trembling. He walked unsteadily, be-wildered. Through their marvellous little windows thesetwo human souls had recognized each other. The quiverof the eye was like unto the clasping of a hand. Does soul thus
. Sixty and six : chips from literary workshops . H Ibuman Spar?? HENRIQUE met her in the crowded street. Their sleevestouched. Her eyes met his. To this day he cannot remember the color of herhair. He has forgotten her face and form. Her name henever knew. Their eyes spoke each to the other, as the sunlightwhispers to the dewdrop. In an instant she was gone, and he was going. Henrique was trembling. He walked unsteadily, be-wildered. Through their marvellous little windows thesetwo human souls had recognized each other. The quiverof the eye was like unto the clasping of a hand. Does soul thus speak to soul, in mute recognition offriendship long forgotten ? Can the human spark shed light through centuries ofdarkness, outlive the crumbling earth, the roaring sea;grope through misty space, shine forth in new worlds as inold, and conquer even death ? Should you meet him in the crowded street to-morrow,ask of Henrique. WILL M. CLEMENS.
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, booksubjectamericanliterature
