large/9571/a_dreamers_tales_dm_1501_librivox_64kb_mp3/dreamerstales_01_dunsany_64kb_45
large/9571/a_dreamers_tales_dm_1501_librivox_64kb_mp3/dreamerstales_01_dunsany_64kb
English
9571
And he that heard it would move restlessly for some hours, and at last would rise suddenly, irresistibly up, setting his face to Poltarnees, and would say, as is the custom of those lands when men part briefly, "Till a man's heart remembereth," which means "Farewell for a while"; but those that loved him, seeing his eyes on Poltarnees, would answer sadly, "Till the gods forget," which means "Farewell." AND HE THAT HEARD IT WOULD MOVE RESTLESSLY FOR SOME HOURS AND AT LAST WOULD RISE SUDDENLY IRRESISTIBLY UP SETTING HIS FACE TO POLTARNEY'S AND WOULD SAY AS IS THE CUSTOM OF THOSE LANDS WHEN MEN PART BRIEFLY TILL A MAN'S HEART REMEMBERETH WHICH MEANS FAREWELL FOR A WHILE BUT THOSE THAT LOVED HIM SEEING HIS EYES ON POLTARNEY'S WOULD ANSWER SADLY TILL THE GODS FORGET WHICH MEANS FAREWELL
ver. And the name of the River is Oriathon, but men call it Ocean. This is the Lower Faith of the Inner Lands. And there is a Higher Faith which is not told to all. Oriathon sweeps on through the forests of Infinity and all at once falls roaring over an Edge, whence Time has long ago recalled his hours to fight in his war with the gods; and falls unlit by the flash of nights and days, with his flood unmeasured by miles, into the deeps of nothing. Now as the centuries went by and the one way by which a man could climb Poltarnees became worn with feet, more and more men surmounted it, not to return. And still they knew not in the Inner Lands upon what mystery Poltarnees looked. For on a still day and windless, while men walked happily about their beautiful streets or tended flocks in the country, suddenly the west wind would bestir himself and come in from the Sea. And he would come cloaked and grey and mournful and carry to someone the hungry cry of the Sea calling out for bones of men. ER SWEEPS ONWARDS EVER AND THE NAME OF THE RIVER IS O'RIATHON BUT MEN CALL IT OCEAN THIS IS THE LOWER FAITH OF THE INNER LANDS AND THERE IS A HIGHER FAITH WHICH IS NOT TOLD TO ALL ARITHON SWEEPS ON THROUGH THE FORESTS OF INFINITY AND ALL AT ONCE FALLS ROARING OVER AN EDGE WHENCE TIME HAS LONG AGO RECALLED HIS HOURS TO FIGHT IN HIS WAR WITH THE GODS AND FALLS UNLIT BY THE FLASH OF NIGHTS AND DAYS WITH HIS FLOOD UNMEASURED BY MILES INTO THE DEEPS OF NOTHING NOW AS THE CENTURIES WENT BY AND THE ONE WAY BY WHICH A MAN COULD CLIMB POLTARNES BECAME WORN WITH FEET MORE AND MORE MEN SURMOUNTED IT NOT TO RETURN AND STILL THEY KNEW NOT IN THE INNER LANDS UPON WHAT MYSTERY POLTARNES LOOKED FOR ON A STILL DAY AND WINDLESS WHILE MEN WALKED HAPPILY ABOUT THEIR BEAUTIFUL STREETS OR TENDED FLOCKS IN THE COUNTRY SUDDENLY THE WEST WIND WOULD BESTIR HIMSELF AND COME IN FROM THE SEA AND HE WOULD COME CLOAKED AND GREY AND MOURNFUL AND CARRY TO SOME ONE THE HUNGRY CRY OF THE SEA CALLING OUT FOR BONES OF MEN
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