Out lying lantern, ye concocted light that steadied once uncertain nights. I have recovered to myself by brave and conscious tensity, – acuity of unmeasured penetrative strength, which, with what small allotment thereof I have explored, settles the outline of all things into a clarity, of fine enough detail to my way now make, the pitch and depths of dark in which resides any no matter. What resolution have I discovered! That I need not now, nor, in truth ever thy penurious aid. But so much the better now I see, and thou art my eyes at night nevermore, but a lonesome, looking star fixed upon the distant black, that shine though you still, attracts a moments bitter wonderment and contributes nothing further that I cannot myself signify or do without. Farewell.