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Lamartine, Alphonse de, 1790-1869

"Raphael Pages of the Book of Life at Twenty"

I
would only, I thought, go out in the evening; I would go up to the
doctor's house by the skirts of the town; I would enter the garden by
the gate which opened on the country, and pass in delightful
intercourse the solitary evening hours. I would bear with pleasure want
and humiliation, which would be compensated a thousand fold by those
hours of love. I thought thus to conciliate the respect I owed to my
poor mother for the sacrifices she had made, with my devotion to the
idol I came to worship.


XCVI.

From a pious superstition of love, I had calculated my steps during my
long pedestrian journey, so as to arrive at the Abbey of Haute-Combe,
on the other side of the Mont du Chat, upon the anniversary of the day
that the miracle of our meeting, and the revelation of our two hearts,
had taken place in the fisherman's inn on the borders of the lake. It
seemed to me that days, like all other mortal things, had their
destiny, and that in the conjunction of the same sun, the same month,
the same date, and in the same spot, I might find something of her I
loved.


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