large/11398/unhappy_far-off_things_1701_librivox_64kb_mp3/unhappyfaroffthings_08_dunsany_64kb_10
large/11398/unhappy_far-off_things_1701_librivox_64kb_mp3/unhappyfaroffthings_08_dunsany_64kb
English
11398
One of the greenhouses is almost all gone, a tumbled mass that might be a piece of Babylon, if archæologists should come to study it. But it is too sad to study, too untidy to have any interest, and, alas, too common: there are hundreds of miles of this. ONE OF THE GREENHOUSES IS ALMOST ALL GONE A TUMBLED MASS THAT MIGHT BE A PIECE OF BABYLON IF ARCHAEOLOGIST SHOULD COME TO STUDY IT BUT IT IS TOO SAD TO STUDY TOO UNTIDY TO HAVE ANY INTEREST AND ALAS TOO COMMON THERE ARE HUNDREDS OF MILES OF THIS
al a few hundred yards away, who rose cawing and wheeled over the garden; for only jackdaws come to Arras Cathedral now, besides a few pigeons. Unkempt beside me a bamboo flourished wildly, having no need of man. On the other side of the small wild track that had been the garden path the skeletons of hothouses stood, surrounded by nettles; their pipes lay all about, shattered and riddled through. Branches of rose break up through the myriad nettles, but only to be seized and choked by columbine. A late moth looks for flowers not quite in vain. It hovers on wing-beats that are invisibly swift by its lonely autumn flower, then darts away over the desolation which is no desolation to a moth: man has destroyed man; nature comes back; it is well: that must be the brief philosophy of myriads of tiny things whose way of life one seldom considered before; now that man's cities are down, now that ruin and misery confront us whichever way we turn, one notices more the small things that are left. GREGATION OF AIR'S CATHEDRAL A FEW HUNDRED YARDS AWAY WHO ROSE CAWING AND WHEELED OVER THE GARDEN FOR ONLY JACKDAWS CAME TO ARIS CATHEDRAL NOW BESIDES A FEW PIGEONS UNKEMPT BESIDE ME A BAMBOO FLOURISHED WILDLY HAVING NO NEED OF MAN ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE SMALL WILD TRACK THAT HAD BEEN THE GARDEN PATH THE SKELETONS OF HOT HOUSES STOOD SURROUNDED BY NETTLES THEIR PIPES LAY ALL ABOUT SHATTERED AND RIDDLED THROUGH BRANCHES OF ROSE BREAK UP THROUGH THE MYRIAD NETTLES BUT ONLY TO BE SEIZED AND CHOKED BY COLUMBINE A LATE MOTH LOOKS FOR FLOWERS NOT QUITE IN VAIN IT HOVERS ON WING BEATS THAT ARE INVISIBLY SWIFT BY ITS LONELY AUTUMN FLOWER THEN DARTS AWAY OVER THE DESOLATION WHICH IS NO DESOLATION TO A MOTH MAN HAS DESTROYED MAN NATURE COMES BACK IT IS WELL THAT MUST BE BRIEF PHILOSOPHY OF MYRIADS OF TINY THINGS WHOSE WAY OF LIFE ONE SELDOM CONSIDERED BEFORE NOW THAT MAN'S CITIES ARE DOWN NOW THAT RUIN AND MISERY CONFRONT US WHICHEVER WAY WE TURN ONE NOTICES MORE THE SMALL THINGS THAT ARE LEFT
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