large/803/time_and_gods_librivox_64kb_mp3/timeandthegods_16_dunsany_64kb_18
large/803/time_and_gods_librivox_64kb_mp3/timeandthegods_16_dunsany_64kb
English
803
For, if the old gods die, let us lament Them or ever new knowledge comes, while all the world still shudders at Their loss. "For at the last, O prophet, what is left? FOR IF THE OLD GODS DIE LET US LAMENT THEM OR EVER NEW KNOWLEDGE COMES WHILE ALL THE WORLD STILL SHUDDERS AT THEIR LOSS FOR AT THE LAST O PROPHET WHAT IS LEFT
beyed, and obeying had merited something of those for whom he toiled. I would look Them in Their faces, O prophet, and ask Them concerning many things and would know the wherefore of much. I had hoped, O prophet, that those gods that had smiled upon my childhood, Whose voices stirred at evening in gardens when I was young, would hold dominion still when at last I came to seek Them. O prophet, if this is not to be, make you a great dirge for my childhood’s gods and fashion silver bells and, setting them mostly a-swing amidst such trees as grew in the garden of my childhood, sing you this dirge in the dusk: and sing it when the low moth flies up and down and the bat first comes peering from her home, sing it when white mists come rising from the river, when smoke is pale and grey, while flowers are yet closing, ere voices are yet hushed, sing it while all things yet lament the day, or ever the great lights of heaven come blazing forth and night with her splendours takes the place of day. NG BEEN ORDERED HAD OBEYED AND OBEYING HAD MERITED SOMETHING OF THOSE FOR WHOM HE TOILED I WOULD LOOK THEM IN THEIR FACES O PROPHET AND ASK THEM CONCERNING MANY THINGS AND WOULD KNOW THE WHEREFORE OF MUCH I HAD HOPED O PROPHET THAT THOSE GODS THAT HAD SMILED UPON MY CHILDHOOD WHOSE VOICES STIRRED AT EVENING IN GARDENS WHEN I WAS YOUNG WOULD HOLD DOMINION STILL WHEN AT LAST I CAME TO SEEK THEM O PROPHET IF THIS IS NOT TO BE MAKE YOU A GREAT DIRGE FOR MY CHILDHOOD'S GODS AND FASHION SILVER BELLS AND SETTING THEM MOSTLY A SWING AMIDST SUCH TREES AS GREW IN THE GARDEN OF MY CHILDHOOD SING YOU THIS DIRGE IN THE DUSK AND SING IT WHEN THE LOW MOTH FLIES UP AND DOWN AND THE BAT FIRST COMES PEERING FROM HER HOME SING IT WHEN WHITE MISTS COME RISING FROM THE RIVER WHEN SMOKE IS PALE AND GREY WHILE FLOWERS ARE YET CLOSING YOUR VOICES ARE YET HUSHED SING IT WHILE ALL THINGS YET LAMENT THE DAY OR EVER THE GREAT LIGHTS OF HEAVEN COME BLAZING FORTH AND NIGHT WITH HER SPLENDOURS TAKES THE PLACE OF DAY
large/803/time_and_gods_librivox_64kb_mp3/timeandthegods_16_dunsany_64kb
file
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