Other Sound Than The Owl's Voice There

Then Idiots Talk....of Energy. If There Is A Word In The Dictionary Under Any Letter From A To Z That I Abominate, It Is Energy. It Is Such A Conventional Superstition, Such Parrot Gabble! What The Deuce!....but Show Me A Good Opportunity, Show Me Something Really Worth Being Energetic About, And I'll Show You Energy.

The Wide Stare Stared Itself Out For One While; The Sun Went Down In A Red, Green, Golden Glory; The Stars Came Out In The Heavens, And The Fire-flies Mimicked Them In The Lower Air, As Men May Feebly Imitate The Goodness Of A Better Order Of Beings; The Long Dusty Roads And The Interminable Plains Were In Repose-and So Deep A Hush Was On The Sea, That It Scarcely Whispered Of The Time When It Shall Give Up Its Dead.

The Night Crept On Apace, The Moon Went Down, The Stars Grew Pale And Dim, And Morning, Cold As They, Slowly Approached. Then, From Behind A Distant Hill, The Noble Sun Rose Up, Driving The Mists In Phantom Shapes Before It, And Clearing The Earth Of Their Ghostly Forms Till Darkness Came Again.

It Was A Very Aged, Ghostly Place; The Church Had Been Built Many Hundreds Of Years Ago, And Had Once Had A Convent Or Monastery Attached; For Arches In Ruins, Remains Of Oriel Windows, And Fragments Of Blackened Walls, Were Yet Standing-, While Other Portions Of The Old Building, Which Had Crumbled Away And Fallen Down, Were Mingled With The Churchyard Earth And Overgrown With Grass, As If They Too Claimed A Burying-place And Sought To Mix Their Ashes With The Dust Of Men.

Make Them Laugh, Make Them Cry, Make Them Wait.