large/9571/a_dreamers_tales_dm_1501_librivox_64kb_mp3/dreamerstales_04_dunsany_64kb_30
large/9571/a_dreamers_tales_dm_1501_librivox_64kb_mp3/dreamerstales_04_dunsany_64kb
English
9571
Gradually the horrible houses crumbled, until the poor dead things that never had had life got decent burial among the weeds and moss. GRADUALLY THE HORRIBLE HOUSES CRUMBLED UNTIL THE POOR DEAD THINGS THAT NEVER HAD HAD LIFE GOT DECENT BURIAL AMONG THE WEEDS AND MOSS
the loneliness of things for gotten. And I lay there all the while in the careless grip of the mud, never wholly covered, yet never able to go free, and I longed for the great caress of the warm Earth or the comfortable lap of the Sea. Sometimes men found my bones and buried them, but the tradition never died, and my friends' successors always brought them back. At last the barges went no more, and there were fewer lights; shaped timbers no longer floated down the fairway, and there came instead old wind-uprooted trees in all their natural simplicity. At last I was aware that somewhere near me a blade of grass was growing, and the moss began to appear all over the dead houses. One day some thistledown went drifting over the river. For some years I watched these signs attentively, until I became certain that London was passing away. Then I hoped once more, and all along both banks of the river there was anger among the lost things that anything should dare to hope upon the forsaken mud.  FLOW AND OVER THE LONELINESS OF THINGS FORGOTTEN AND I LAY THERE ALL THE WHILE IN THE CARELESS GRIP OF THE MUD NEVER WHOLLY COVERED YET NEVER ABLE TO GO FREE AND I LONGED FOR THE GREAT CARESS OF THE WARM EARTH OR FOR THE COMFORTABLE LAP OF THE SEA SOMETIMES MEN FOUND MY BONES AND BURIED THEM BUT THE TRADITION NEVER DIED AND MY FRIEND'S SUCCESSORS ALWAYS BROUGHT THEM BACK AT LAST THE BARGES WENT NO MORE AND THERE WERE FEWER LIGHTS SHAPED TIMBERS NO LONGER FLOATED DOWN THE FAIR WAY AND THERE CAME INSTEAD OLD WIND UPROOTED TREES IN ALL THEIR NATURAL SIMPLICITY AT LAST I WAS AWARE THAT SOMEWHERE NEAR ME A BLADE OF GRASS WAS GROWING AND THE MOSS BEGAN TO APPEAR ALL OVER THE DEAD HOUSES ONE DAY SOME THISTLEDOWN WENT DRIFTING OVER THE RIVER FOR SOME YEARS I WATCHED THESE SIGNS ATTENTIVELY UNTIL I BECAME CERTAIN THAT LONDON WAS PASSING AWAY THEN I HOPED ONCE MORE AND ALL ALONG BOTH BANKS OF THE RIVER THERE WAS ANGER AMONG THE LOST THINGS THAT ANYTHING SHOULD DARE TO HOPE UPON THE FORSAKEN MUD
large/9571/a_dreamers_tales_dm_1501_librivox_64kb_mp3/dreamerstales_04_dunsany_64kb
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download/librilight/large/9571/a_dreamers_tales_dm_1501_librivox_64kb_mp3/dreamerstales_04_dunsany_64kb.flac