large/9571/a_dreamers_tales_dm_1501_librivox_64kb_mp3/dreamerstales_01_dunsany_64kb_62
large/9571/a_dreamers_tales_dm_1501_librivox_64kb_mp3/dreamerstales_01_dunsany_64kb
English
9571
And the glory of the sun was among the surges as they brought driftwood out of isles of spice, tossing their golden heads. And the grey currents crept away to the south like companionless serpents that love something afar with a restless, deadly love. AND THE GLORY OF THE SUN WAS AMONG THE SURGES AS THEY BROUGHT DRIFTWOOD OUT OF ISLES OF SPICE TOSSING THEIR GOLDEN HEADS AND THE GRAY CURRENTS CREPT AWAY TO THE SOUTH LIKE COMPANIONLESS SERPENTS THAT LOVE SOMETHING AFAR WITH A RESTLESS DEADLY LOVE
nge lore, that I shall never hear thy voice again. And for this I give thee my forgiveness." But he, repeating the oath that he had sworn, set out, looking often backwards until the slope became to step and his face was set to the rock. It was in the morning that he started, and he climbed all the day with little rest, where every foot-hole was smooth with many feet. Before he reached the top the sun disappeared from him, and darker and darker grew the Inner Lands. Then he pushed on so as to see before dark whatever thing Poltarnees had to show. The dusk was deep over the Inner Lands, and the lights of cities twinkled through the sea-mist when he came to Poltarnees's summit, and the sun before him was not yet gone from the sky. And there below him was the old wrinkled Sea, smiling and murmuring song. And he nursed little ships with gleaming sails, and in his hands were old regretted wrecks, and mast all studded over with golden nails that he had rent in anger out of beautiful galleons. HECY OR SOME STRANGE LORE THAT I SHALL NEVER HEAR THY VOICE AGAIN AND FOR THIS I GIVE THEE MY FORGIVENESS BUT HE REPEATING THE OATH THAT HE HAD SWORN SET OUT LOOKING OFF AND BACKWARDS UNTIL THE SLOPE BECAME TO STEP AND HIS FACE WAS SET TO THE ROCK IT WAS IN THE MORNING THAT HE HAD STARTED AND HE CLIMBED ALL THE DAY WITH LITTLE REST WHERE EVERY FOOTHOLD WAS SMOOTH WITH MANY FEET BEFORE HE REACHED THE TOP THE SUN DISAPPEARED FROM HIM AND DARKER AND DARKER GREW THE INNER LANDS THEN HE PUSHED ON SO AS TO SEE BEFORE DARK WHATEVER THING POLTARNEY'S HAD TO SHOW THE DUSK WAS DEEP OVER THE INNER LANDS AND THE LIGHTS OF CITIES TWINKLED THROUGH THE SEA MIST WHEN IT CAME TO POLTARNI'S SUMMIT AND THE SUN BEFORE HIM WAS NOT YET GONE FROM THE SKY AND THERE BELOW HIM WAS THE OLD WRINKLED SEA SMILING AND MURMURING SONG AND HE NURSED LITTLE SHIPS WITH GLEAMING SAILS AND IN HIS HANDS WERE OLD REGRETTED WRECKS AND MASTS ALL STUDDED OVER WITH GOLDEN NAILS THAT HE HAD RENT IN ANGER OUT OF BEAUTIFUL GALLEONS
large/9571/a_dreamers_tales_dm_1501_librivox_64kb_mp3/dreamerstales_01_dunsany_64kb
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