large/9571/a_dreamers_tales_dm_1501_librivox_64kb_mp3/dreamerstales_04_dunsany_64kb_13
large/9571/a_dreamers_tales_dm_1501_librivox_64kb_mp3/dreamerstales_04_dunsany_64kb
English
9571
Then I knew, as I had never known before, that for all the years that herd of desolate houses had wanted to cry out too, but, being dead, were dumb. And I knew then that it had yet been well with the forgotten drifting things if they had wept, but they were eyeless and without life. THEN I KNEW AS I HAD NEVER KNOWN BEFORE THAT FOR ALL THE YEARS THAT HERD OF DESOLATE HOUSES HAD WANTED TO CRY OUT TOO BUT BEING DEAD WERE DUMB AND I KNEW THEN THAT IT HAD YET BEEN WELL WITH THE FORGOTTEN DRIFTING THINGS IF THEY HAD WEPT BUT THEY WERE EYELESS AND WITHOUT LIFE
d quenched the flaring lights the tapers looked pale and small as they bobbed upon the tide, and at once the glamour of the calamity was gone, and I noticed then the approach of the huge dawn; and my friends cast their cloaks over their faces, and the solemn procession was turned into many fugitives that furtively stole away. Then the mud came back wearily and covered all but my face. There I lay alone with quite forgotten things, with drifting things that the tides will take no farther, with useless things and lost things, and with the horrible unnatural bricks that are neither stone nor soil. I was rid of feeling, because I had been killed, but perception and thought were in my unhappy soul. The dawn widened, and I saw the desolate houses that crowded the marge of the river, and their dead windows peered into my dead eyes, windows with bales behind them instead of human souls. I grew so weary looking at these forlorn things that I wanted to cry out, but could not, because I was dead. ND WHEN THE WATER HAD QUENCHED THE FLARING LIGHTS THE TAPERS LOOKED PALE AND SMALL AS THEY BOBBED UPON THE TIDE AND AT ONCE THE GLAMOUR OF THE CALAMITY WAS GONE AND I NOTICED THEN THE APPROACH OF THE HUGE DAWN AND MY FRIENDS CAST THEIR CLOAKS OVER THEIR FACES AND THE SOLEMN PROCESSION WAS TURNED INTO MANY FUGITIVES THAT FURTIVELY STOLE AWAY THEN THE MUD CAME BACK WEARILY AND COVERED ALL BUT MY FACE THERE I LAY ALONE WITH QUITE FORGOTTEN THINGS WITH DRIFTING THINGS THAT THE TIDES WILL TAKE NO FARTHER WITH USELESS THINGS AND LOST THINGS AND WITH THE HORRIBLE UNNATURAL BRICKS THAT ARE NEITHER STONE NOR SOIL I WAS RID OF FEELING BECAUSE I HAD BEEN KILLED BUT PERCEPTION AND THOUGHT WERE IN MY UNHAPPY SOUL THE DAWN WIDENED AND I SAW THE DESOLATE HOUSES THAT CROWDED THE MARGE OF THE RIVER AND THEIR DEAD WINDOWS PEERED INTO MY DEAD EYES WINDOWS WITH BALES BEHIND THEM INSTEAD OF HUMAN SOULS I GREW SO WEARY LOOKING AT THESE FORLORN THINGS THAT I WANTED TO CRY OUT BUT COULD NOT BECAUSE I WAS DEAD
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