When I slept, I was somewhat consoled by my dreams; but all the time I
dreamed, I knew that I was only dreaming. But one night, at length, the moon, a
mere shred of pallor, scattered a few thin ghostly rays upon me; and I think I
fell asleep and dreamed. I sat in an autumn night before the vintage, on a hill
overlooking my own castle. My heart sprang with joy. Oh, to be a child again,
innocent, fearless, without shame or desire!
--George
MacDonald Phantastes
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