large/9571/a_dreamers_tales_dm_1501_librivox_64kb_mp3/dreamerstales_14_dunsany_64kb_15
large/9571/a_dreamers_tales_dm_1501_librivox_64kb_mp3/dreamerstales_14_dunsany_64kb
English
9571
At first I noticed nothing about the field except its beauty and its peacefulness. But the second time that I came I thought there was something ominous about the field. Down there among the king cups by the little shallow stream I felt that something terrible might happen in just such a place. I did not stay long there, because I thought that too much time spent in London had brought on these morbid fancies and I went on to the hills as fast as I could. AT FIRST I NOTICED NOTHING ABOUT THE FIELD EXCEPT ITS BEAUTY AND ITS PEACEFULNESS BUT THE SECOND TIME THAT I CAME I THOUGHT THAT THERE WAS SOMETHING OMINOUS ABOUT THE FIELD DOWN THERE AMONG THE KIN CUPS BY THE LITTLE SHALLOW STREAM I FELT THAT SOMETHING TERRIBLE MIGHT HAPPEN IN JUST SUCH A PLACE I DID NOT STAY LONG THERE BECAUSE I THOUGHT THAT TOO MUCH TIME SPENT IN LONDON HAD BROUGHT ON THESE MORBID FANCIES AND I WENT ON TO THE HILLS AS FAST AS I COULD
rges nearer to the edge of London, and nearer to the beautiful influence of the hills, the houses become uglier, the streets viler, the gloom deepens, the errors of civilisation stand bare to the scorn of the fields. Where ugliness reaches the height of its luxuriance, in the dense misery of the place, where one imagines the builder saying, "Here I culminate. Let us give thanks to Satan," there is a bridge of yellow brick, and through it, as through some gate of filigree silver opening on fairyland, one passes into the country. To left and right, as far as one can see, stretches that monstrous city; before one are the fields like an old, old song. There is a field there that is full of king-cups. A stream runs through it, and along the stream is a little wood of osiers. There I used often to rest at the streams edge before my long journey to the hills. There I used to forget London, street by street. Sometimes I picked a bunch of king-cups to show them to the hills. I often came there. D SLOWLY LIFT YET AS ONE EMERGES NEARER TO THE EDGE OF LO LONDON AND NEARER TO THE BEAUTIFUL INFLUENCE OF THE HILLS THE HOUSES BECOME UGLIER THE STREETS VILER THE GLOOM DEEPENS THE ERRORS OF CIVILIZATION STAND BARE TO THE SCORN OF THE FIELDS WHERE UGLINESS REACHES THE HEIGHT OF ITS LUXURIANCE IN THE DENSE MISERY OF THE PLACE WHERE ONE IMAGINES THE BUILDER SAYING HERE I CULMINATE LET US GIVE THANKS TO SATAN THERE IS A BRIDGE OF YELLOW BRICK AND THROUGH IT AS THROUGH SOME GATE OF FILIGREE SILVER OPENING ON FAIRYLAND ONE PASSES INTO THE COUNTRY TO LEFT AND RIGHT AS FAR AS ONE CAN SEE STRETCHES THAT MONSTROUS CITY BEFORE ONE ARE THE FIELDS LIKE AN OLD OLD SONG THERE IS A FIELD THERE THAT IS FULL OF KIN CUPS A STREAM RUNS THROUGH IT AND ALONG THE STREAM IS A LITTLE WOOD OF OSIERS THERE I USED OFTEN TO REST AT THE STREAM'S EDGE BEFORE MY LONG JOURNEY TO THE HILLS THERE I USED TO FORGET LONDON STREET BY STREET SOMETIMES I PICKED A BUNCH OF KIN CUPS TO SHOW THEM TO THE HILLS I OFTEN CAME THERE
large/9571/a_dreamers_tales_dm_1501_librivox_64kb_mp3/dreamerstales_14_dunsany_64kb
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