large/803/book_wonder_ge_librivox_64kb_mp3/bookofwonder_04_dunsany_64kb_29
large/803/book_wonder_ge_librivox_64kb_mp3/bookofwonder_04_dunsany_64kb
English
803
The guardian still slept the sleep that survived a thousand years. THE GUARDIANS STILL SLEPT A SLEEP THAT SURVIVED A THOUSAND YEARS
 box; and there they read by the light of ingenious sparks which Slith knew how to contrive, and even this poor light they hid with their bodies. What was their joy, even at that perilous moment, as they lurked between the guardian and the abyss, to find that the box contained fifteen peerless odes in the alcaic form, five sonnets that were by far the most beautiful in the world, nine ballads in the manner of Provence that had no equal in the treasuries of man, a poem addressed to a moth in twenty-eight perfect stanzas, a piece of blank verse of over a hundred lines on a level not yet known to have been attained by man, as well as fifteen lyrics on which no merchant would dare to set a price. They would have read them again, for they gave happy tears to a man and memories of dear things done in infancy, and brought sweet voices from far sepulchres; but Slith pointed imperiously to the way by which they had come, and extinguished the light; and Slorg and Sippy sighed, then took the box. AND OPENED THE GOLDEN BOX AND THERE THEY READ BY THE LIGHT OF INGENIOUS SPARKS WHICH SLITH KNEW HOW TO CONTRIVE AND EVEN THIS POOR LIGHT THEY HID WITH THEIR BODIES WHAT WAS THEIR JOY EVEN AT THAT PERILOUS MOMENT AS THEY LURKED BETWEEN THE GUARDIAN AND THE ABYSS TO FIND THAT THE BOX CONTAINED FIFTEEN PEERLESS ODES IN THE ALCHAIC FORM FIVE SONNETS THAT WERE BY FAR THE MOST BEAUTIFUL IN THE WORLD NINE BALLADS IN THE MANOR OF PROVENCE THAT HAD NO EQUAL IN THE TREASURIES OF MAN A POEM ADDRESSED TO A MOTH IN TWENTY EIGHT PERFECT STANZAS A PIECE OF BLANK VERSE OF OVER A HUNDRED LINES ON A LEVEL NOT YET KNOWN TO HAVE BEEN ATTAINED BY MAN AS WELL AS FIFTEEN LYRICS ON WHICH NO MERCHANT WOULD DARE TO SET A PRICE THEY WOULD HAVE READ THEM AGAIN FOR THEY GAVE HAPPY TEARS TO A MAN IN MEMORIES OF DEAR THINGS DONE IN INFANCY AND BROUGHT SWEET VOICES FROM FAR SEPULTERS BUT SLITH POINTED IMPERIOUSLY TO THE WAY BY WHICH THEY HAD COME AND EXTINGUISHED THE LIGHT AND SLORG AND SIPPI SIGHED THEN TOOK THE BOX
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