large/5293/cruelpainter_1203_librivox_64kb_mp3/cruelpainter_1_macdonald_64kb_103
large/5293/cruelpainter_1203_librivox_64kb_mp3/cruelpainter_1_macdonald_64kb
English
5293
For her sake he would bear anything  bear even with calmness the torments of his own love; he would stay on, hoping and hoping. FOR HER SAKE HE WOULD BEAR ANY THING BEAR EVEN WITH CALMNESS THE TORMENTS OF HIS OWN LOVE HE WOULD STAY ON HOPING AND HOPING
ful attempt at wit, grated dreadfully on Wolkenlicht’s feeling. With her, too, however, a reaction seemed to follow. For, turning round a moment after, and looking at the picture on which her father was working, the tears rose in her eyes, and she said: “Oh! father, how like my mother you have made me this time!” “Child!” retorted the painter with a cold fierceness, “you have no mother. That which is gone out is gone out. Put no name in my hearing on that which is not. Where no substance is, how can there be a name?” Lilith rose and left the room. Wolkenlicht now understood that Lilith was a frozen bud, and could not blossom into a rose. But pure love lives by faith. It loves the vaguely beheld and unrealised ideal. It dares believe that the loved is not all that she ever seemed. It is in virtue of this that love loves on. And it was in virtue of this, that Wolkenlicht loved Lilith yet more after he discovered what a grave of misery her unbelief was digging for her within her own soul. UGH WITH WHICH LILITH MET THIS FRIGHTFUL ATTEMPT AT WIT GRATED DREADFULLY ON WOLKENLICH'S FEELING WITH HER TOO HOWEVER A REACTION SEEMED TO FOLLOW FOR TURNING ROUND A MOMENT AFTER AND LOOKING AT THE PICTURE ON WHICH HER FATHER WAS WORKING THE TEARS ROSE IN HER EYES AND SHE SAID O FATHER HOW LIKE MY MOTHER YOU HAVE MADE ME THIS TIME CHILD RETORTED THE PAINTER WITH A COLD FIERCENESS YOU YOU HAVE NO MOTHER THAT WHICH IS GONE OUT IS GONE OUT PUT NO NAME IN MY HEARING ON THAT WHICH IS NOT WHERE NO SUBSTANCE IS HOW CAN THERE BE A NAME LILITH ROSE AND LEFT THE ROOM VULCANLICHT NOW UNDERSTOOD THAT LILITH WAS A FROZEN BUD AND COULD NOT BLOSSOM INTO A ROSE BUTURE LOVE LIVES BY FAITH IT LOVES THE VAGUELY BEHELD AND UNREALISED IDEAL IT DARES BELIEVE THAT THE LOVED IS NOT ALL THAT SHE EVER SEEMED IT IS IN VIRTUE OF THIS THAT LOVE LOVES ON AND IT WAS IN VIRTUE OF THIS THAT VULKEMICHT LOVED LILITH YET MORE AFTER HE DISCOVERED WHAT A GRAVE OF MISERY HER UNBELIEF WAS DIGGING FOR HER WITHIN HER OWN SOUL
large/5293/cruelpainter_1203_librivox_64kb_mp3/cruelpainter_1_macdonald_64kb
file
download/librilight/large/5293/cruelpainter_1203_librivox_64kb_mp3/cruelpainter_1_macdonald_64kb.flac