large/5293/cruelpainter_1203_librivox_64kb_mp3/cruelpainter_2_macdonald_64kb_45
large/5293/cruelpainter_1203_librivox_64kb_mp3/cruelpainter_2_macdonald_64kb
English
5293
Back with the thought came the face of the dead Karl, and the maiden threw herself on her bed in a flood of bitter tears. BACK WITH A THOUGHT CAME THE FACE OF THE DEAD KARL AND THE MAIDEN THREW HERSELF ON HER BED IN A FLOOD OF BITTER TEARS
she tried to see it again. It would not come when she called it; but when her thoughts left knocking at the door of the lost, and wandered away, out came the pale, troubled, silent face again, gathering itself up from some unknown nook in her world of phantasy, and once more, when she tried to steady it by the fixedness of her own regard, fading back into the mist. So the phantasm of the dead drew near and wooed, as the living had never dared.--What if there were any good in loving? What if men and women did not die all out, but some dim shade of each, like that pale, mind-ghost of Wolkenlicht, floated through the eternal vapours of chaos? And what if they might sometimes cross each other’s path, meet, know that they met, love on? Would not that revive the withered memory, fix the fleeting ghost, give a new habitation, a body even, to the poor, unhoused wanderers, frozen by the eternal frosts, no longer thinking beings, but thoughts wandering through the brain of the “Melancholy Mass?” E VAPOURS OF HER REVERIE WHEN IT VANISHED SHE TRIED TO SEE IT AGAIN IT WOULD NOT COME WHEN SHE CALLED IT BUT WHEN HER THOUGHTS LEFT KNOCKING AT THE DOOR OF THE LOST AND WANDERED AWAY OUT CAME THE PALE TROUBLED SILENT FACE AGAIN GATHERING ITSELF UP FROM SOME UNKNOWN NOOK IN HER WORLD OF FANTASY AND ONCE MORE WHEN SHE TRIED TO STEADY IT BY THE FIXEDNESS OF HER REGARD FADING BACK INTO THE MIST SO THE PHANTASM OF THE DEAD DREW NEAR AND WOOED AS THE LIVING HAD NEVER DARED WHAT IF THERE WERE ANY GOOD IN LOVING WHAT IF MEN AND WOMEN DID NOT ALL DIE OUT BUT SOME DIM SHADE OF EACH LIKE THAT PALE MIND GHOST OF WOLKENLICHT FLOATED THROUGH THE ETERNAL VAPORS OF CHAOS AND WHAT IF THEY MIGHT SOMETIMES CROSS EACH OTHER'S PATH MEET KNOW THEY HAD MET LOVE ON WOULD NOT THAT REVIVE THE WITHERED MEMORY FIX THE FLEETING GHOST GIVE A NEW HABITATION A BODY EVEN TO THE POOR UNHOUSED WANDERERS FROZEN BY THE ETERNAL FROSTS NO LONGER THINKING BEINGS BUT THOUGHTS WANDERING THROUGH THE BRAIN OF THE MELANCHOLY MASS
large/5293/cruelpainter_1203_librivox_64kb_mp3/cruelpainter_2_macdonald_64kb
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