theclouds，bywhichchieflytheeyeexpoundsthedistanceofthebluepavilionstretchedoverourheads，areinsummermorevoluminous，massedandaccumulatedinfargranderandmoretoweringpiles。Secondly，thelightandtheappearancesofthedecliningandthesettingsunaremuchmorefittedtobetypesandcharactersoftheInfinite。Andthirdly（whichisthemainreason），theexuberantandriotousprodigalityoflifenaturallyforcesthemindmorepowerfullyupontheantagonistthoughtofdeath，andthewintrysterilityofthegrave。Foritmaybeobservedgenerally，thatwherevertwothoughtsstandrelatedtoeachotherbyalawofantagonism，andexist，asitwere，bymutualrepulsion，theyareapttosuggesteachother。OntheseaccountsitisthatIfinditimpossibletobanishthethoughtofdeathwhenIamwalkingaloneintheendlessdaysofsummer;andanyparticulardeath，ifnotmoreaffecting，atleasthauntsmymindmoreobstinatelyandbesieginglyinthatseason。Perhapsthiscause，andaslightincidentwhichI
omit，mighthavebeentheimmediateoccasionsofthefollowingdream，towhich，however，apredispositionmustalwayshaveexistedinmymind;buthavingbeenoncerouseditneverleftme，andsplitintoathousandfantasticvarieties，whichoftensuddenlyreunited，andcomposedagaintheoriginaldream。
IthoughtthatitwasaSundaymorninginMay，thatitwasEasterSunday，andasyetveryearlyinthemorning。Iwasstanding，asitseemedtome，atthedoorofmyowncottage。Rightbeforemelaytheveryscenewhichcouldreallybecommandedfromthatsituation，butexalted，aswasusual，andsolemnisedbythepowerofdreams。
Therewerethesamemountains，andthesamelovelyvalleyattheirfeet;butthemountainswereraisedtomorethanAlpineheight，andtherewasinterspacefarlargerbetweenthemofmeadowsandforestlawns;thehedgeswererichwithwhiteroses;andnolivingcreaturewastobeseen，exceptingthatinthegreenchurchyardtherewerecattletranquillyreposingupontheverdantgraves，andparticularlyroundaboutthegraveofachildwhomIhadtenderlyloved，justasIhadreallybeheldthem，alittlebeforesunriseinthesamesummer，whenthatchilddied。Igazeduponthewell-knownscene，andIsaidaloud（asIthought）tomyself，\"Ityetwantsmuchofsunrise，anditisEasterSunday;andthatisthedayonwhichtheycelebratethefirstfruitsofresurrection。Iwillwalkabroad;oldgriefsshallbeforgottento-day;fortheairiscoolandstill，andthehillsarehighandstretchawaytoheaven;andtheforestgladesareasquietasthechurchyard，andwiththedewIcanwashthefeverfrommyforehead，andthenIshallbeunhappynolonger。\"AndIturnedasiftoopenmygardengate，andimmediatelyIsawupontheleftascenefardifferent，butwhichyetthepowerofdreamshadreconciledintoharmonywiththeother。ThescenewasanOrientalone，andtherealsoitwasEasterSunday，andveryearlyinthemorning。Andatavastdistancewerevisible，asastainuponthehorizon，thedomesandcupolasofagreatcity——animageorfaintabstraction，caughtperhapsinchildhoodfromsomepictureofJerusalem。Andnotabow-shotfromme，uponastoneandshadedbyJudeanpalms，theresatawoman，andIlooked，anditwas——Ann！Shefixedhereyesuponmeearnestly，andIsaidtoheratlength：\"So，then，Ihavefoundyouatlast。\"Iwaited，butsheansweredmenotaword。HerfacewasthesameaswhenIsawitlast，andyetagainhowdifferent！Seventeenyearsago，whenthelamp-lightfelluponherface，asforthelasttimeIkissedherlips（lips，Ann，thattomewerenotpolluted），hereyeswerestreamingwithtears：thetearswerenowwipedaway;sheseemedmorebeautifulthanshewasatthattime，butinallotherpointsthesame，andnotolder。Herlooksweretranquil，butwithunusualsolemnityofexpression，andI
nowgazeduponherwithsomeawe;butsuddenlyhercountenancegrewdim，andturningtothemountainsIperceivedvapoursrollingbetweenus。Inamomentallhadvanished，thickdarknesscameon，andinthetwinklingofaneyeIwasfarawayfrommountains，andbylamplightinOxfordStreet，walkingagainwithAnn——justaswewalkedseventeenyearsbefore，whenwewerebothchildren。