Or where the floating mass so imperfectly obstructs the color of the firmament a slender foot and fairy limb resting too heavily upon the frail support may be thrust through and suddenly withdrawn , while longing fancy follows them in vain . Yonder , again , is an airy archipelago where the sunbeams love to linger in their journeyings through space . Every one of those little clouds has been dipped and steeped in radiance which the slightest pressure might disengage in silvery profusion like water wrung from a sea-maid 's hair . Bright they are as a young man 's visions , and , like them , would be realized in dullness , obscurity and tears . I will look on them no more . In three parts of the visible circle whose centre is this spire I discern cultivated fields , villages , white country-seats , the waving lines of rivulets , little placid lakes , and here and there a rising ground that would fain be termed a hill . On the fourth side is the sea , stretching away toward a viewless boundary , blue and calm except where the passing anger of a shadow flits across its surface and is gone . Hitherward a broad inlet penetrates far into the land ; on the verge of the harbor formed by its extremity is a town , and over it am I , a watchman , all-heeding and unheeded . Oh that the multitude of chimneys could speak , like those of Madrid , and betray in smoky whispers the secrets of all who since their first foundation have assembled at the hearths within ! Oh that the Limping Devil of Le Sage would perch beside me here , extend his wand over this contiguity of roofs , uncover every chamber and make me familiar with their inhabitants ! The most desirable mode of existence might be that of a spiritualized Paul Pry hovering invisible round man and woman , witnessing their deeds , searching into their hearts , borrowing brightness from their felicity and shade from their sorrow , and retaining no emotion peculiar to himself . But none of these things are possible ; and if I would know the interior of brick walls or the mystery of human bosoms , I can but guess . Yonder is a fair street extending north and south . The stately mansions are placed each on its carpet of verdant grass , and a long flight of steps descends from every door to the pavement . Ornamental trees -- the broadleafed horse-chestnut , the elm so lofty and bending , the graceful but infrequent willow , and others whereof I know not the names -- grow thrivingly among brick and stone . The oblique rays of the sun are intercepted by these green citizens and by the houses , so that one side of the street is a shaded and pleasant walk . On its whole extent there is now but a single passenger , advancing from the upper end , and he , unless distance and the medium of a pocket spyglass do him more than justice , is a fine young man of twenty . He saunters slowly forward , slapping his left hand with his folded gloves , bending his eyes upon the pavement , and sometimes raising them to throw a glance before him . Certainly he has a pensive air . Is he in doubt or in debt ?
Is he -- if the question be allowable -- XXXXX love ?
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