midnight
. and though he constantly told himself what unheard-of folly it was to pursue an illusive chimera of his own imagination , -- a mere phantasm which had somehow or other taken possession of his brain at a time when that brain must have been acted upon -LRB- so he continued to think -RRB- by strong mesmeric or magnetic influence , he went on his way all the same with a sort of dogged obstinacy which no fatigue could daunt or lessen . He never lay down to rest without the faint hope of seeing once again , if only in sleep , the radiant Being whose haunting words had sent him on this quest of `` Ardath , '' -- but herein his expectations were not realized . No more flower-crowned angels floated before him -- no sweet whisper of love , encouragement , or promise came mysteriously on his ears in the midnight silences , -- his slumbers were always profound and placid as those of a child and utterly dreamless . One consolation he had however , ... he could write . Not a day passed without his finding some new inspiration ... some fresh , quaint , and lovely thought , that flowed of itself into most perfect and rhythmical utterance , -- glorious lines of verse glowing with fervor and beauty seemed to fall from his pencil without any effort on his part , -- and if he had had reason in former times to doubt the strength of his poetical faculty , it was now very certain he could do so longer . His mind was as a fine harp newly strung , attuned , and quivering with the consciousness of the music pent-up within it , -- and as he remembered the masterpiece of poesy he had written in his seeming trance , the manuscript of which would soon be in the hands of the London publishers , his heart swelled with a growing and irrepressible sense of pride .