large/5293/cruelpainter_1203_librivox_64kb_mp3/cruelpainter_2_macdonald_64kb_0
large/5293/cruelpainter_1203_librivox_64kb_mp3/cruelpainter_2_macdonald_64kb
English
5293
For it is love itself and not its responses or results that is the soul of life and its pleasures. FOR IT IS LOVE ITSELF AND NOT ITS RESPONSES OR RESULTS THAT IS THE SOUL OF LIFE AND ITS PLEASURES
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?” 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. She could have loved him if he had only lived: she did love him, for he was dead. But even in the midst of the remorse that followed--for had she not killed him?--life seemed a less hard and hopeless thing than before. ADY 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 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 COULD HAVE LOVED HIM IF HE HAD ONLY LIVED SHE DID LOVE HIM FOR HE WAS DEAD BUT EVEN IN THE MIDST OF THE REMORSE THAT FOLLOWED FOR HAD NOT SHE KILLED HIM LIFE SEEMED A LESS HARD AND HOPELESS THING THAN BEFORE
large/5293/cruelpainter_1203_librivox_64kb_mp3/cruelpainter_2_macdonald_64kb
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