44
A Journey Round my Room
of light fell upon me! Alack, poor lover! While thou pinest away, far from thy mistress, at whose side another perhaps, has already replaced thee; whilst thou fixest thy longing eyes on her portrait, imagining that at least in picture, thou art the sole being she deigns to regard,—the perfidious image, as faithless as the original, bestows its glances on all around, and smiles on every one alike!
And in this behold a moral resemblance between certain portraits and their originals, which no philosopher, no painter, no observer, had before remarked.
I go on from discovery to discovery.
