Explore "A Life for a Life, Volume I" by Dinah Mulock on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I do not feel inclined for sleep, and there is a large round moon looking in at my window. My foolish old moon, what a time it is since you and I had a quiet serious look at one another. What things you used to say to me, and what confidences I used to make in you -- at this very window, leaning my elbow in this very spot. That was when I was a child, and fond of Colin -- "Colin, my dear. " How ridiculous it seems now, and what a laugh it would raise against me if anybody had known it. Yet what an innocent, simple, devoted child-love it was! I hardly think any after-love, supposing I should ever feel one, will be, in its way, more tender, or more true.
Moon, have you forgotten me? Am I becoming a middle-aged person; and is a new and younger generation growing up to have confidences with you as I used to have? Or is it I who have forsaken you? Most likely. You have done me a deal of harm -- and good, too -- in my time. Yet you seem friendly and mild to-night. I will forgive you, my poor old moon.