قراءة كتاب Fires - Book II The Ovens, and Other Tales
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اللغة: English
Fires - Book II The Ovens, and Other Tales
الصفحة رقم: 7
warning;
And how through air as clear as glass,
The far-off hills he knew
Looked strangely near; and glittered brightly;
Each sprig of heath and blade of grass
In the cold wind blowing lightly,
Each clump of green and crimson moss
Sparkling in the wintry sun.
But now, as they toiled home, across
These unfamiliar fells, nigh done,
The wind again began to blow;
And thicker, thicker fell the snow:
Till Janey sank, too numb to stir:
When John stooped down, and lifted her,
To carry her upon his back.
And then his head began to tire:
And soon he seemed to lose the track...
And now the world was all afire...
Now dazzling white, now dazzling black...
And then, through some strange land of light,
Where clouds of butterflies all white,
Fluttered and flickered all about,
Dancing ever in and out,
He wandered, blinded by white wings,
That rustled, rustled in his ears
With cold, uncanny whisperings...
And then it seemed his bones must crack
With that dead weight upon his back...
When, on his cheek, he felt warm tears,
And a cold tangle of wet hair;
And knew 'twas Janey weeping there:
And, taking heart, he stumbled on,
While in his breast the hearthlight shone:
And it was all of his desire
To sit once more before the fire;
And feel the friendly glowing heat.
But, as he strove with fumbling feet,
It seemed that he would never find
Again that cheery hearth and kind;
But wander ever, bent and blind,
Beneath his burden through the night
Of dreadful, spangly, whispering white.
The wind rose; and the dry snow drifted
In little eddies round the track:
And when, at last, the dark cloud rifted,
He saw a strange lough, lying cold and black,
'Mid unknown, ghostly hills; and knew
That they were lost: and once again,
The snow closed in: and swept from view
The dead black water and strange fells.
But still he struggled on: and then,
When he seemed climbing up an endless steep
And ever slipping, sliding back,
With ankles aching like to crack,
And only longed for sleep;
He heard a tinkling sound of bells,
That kept on ringing, ringing, ringing,
Until his dizzy head was singing;
And he could think of nothing else:
And then it seemed the weight was lifted
From off his back; and on the ground
His sister stood, while, all around
Were giants clad in coats of wool,
With big, curled horns, and queer black faces,
Who bobbed and curtsied in their places,
With blazing eyes and strange grimaces;
But never made a sound;
Then nearly shook themselves to pieces,
Shedding round a smell of warm, wet fleeces:
Then one it seemed as if he knew,
Looking like the old lame ewe,
Began to bite his coat, and pull
Till he could hardly stand: its eyes
Glowing to a monstrous size,
Till they were like a lantern light
Burning brightly through the night...
When someone stooped from out the sky,
To rescue him; and set him high:
And he was riding, snug and warm,
In some king's chariot through the storm,
Without a sound of wheel or hoof--
In some king's chariot, filled with straw,
And he would nevermore be cold...
And then with wondering eyes he saw
Deep caverns of pure burning gold;
And knew himself in fairyland:
But when he stretched an eager hand
To touch the glowing walls, he felt
A queer warm puff, as though of fire...
And suddenly he smelt
The reek of peat; and looking higher,
He saw the old, black porridge-kettle,
Hanging from the cavern roof,
Hanging on its own black crook:
And he was lying on the settle,
While by his side,
With tender look,
His mother knelt;
And he had only one desire
In all the world; and 'twas to fling
His arms about her neck, and hide
His happy tears upon her breast.
And as to her he closely pressed,
He heard his merry father sing:
"There was a silly sleepyhead,
Who thought he'd like to go to bed:
So in a stell he went to sleep,
And snored among the other sheep."
And then his mother gently said:
"Nay, father: do not tease him now:
He's quite worn out: and needs a