My feeling at the time was as if I had been looking at a beautiful lamp, lighted, warm and irradiating a charming scene, and then suddenly that it had been puffed out before my eyes, as if a hundred bubbles of iridescent hues had been shattered by a breath.  We toil so much, we dream so richly, we hasten so fast, and, lo! the green door is opened.  We are through it, and its grassy surface has sealed us forever from all which apparently we so much crave—­even as, breathlessly, we are still running.

[Transcriber’s Note:  Typos have been corrected in this document, but spelling and punctuation inconsistencies have been retained.]