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Autor(en): 
  • Emilia Francis Strong Dilke
  • The Shrine of Death, And, the Shrine of Love (Classic Reprint) 
     

    (Buch)
    Dieser Artikel gilt, aufgrund seiner Grösse, beim Versand als 2 Artikel!


    Übersicht
     
    Lieferstatus:   i.d.R. innert 5-10 Tagen versandfertig
    Genre:  Romane, Erzählungen, Gedichte 
    ISBN:  9780259860815 
    EAN-Code: 
    9780259860815 
    Verlag:  Forgotten Books 
    Einband:  Kartoniert  
    Sprache:  English  
    Dimensionen:  H 229 mm / B 152 mm / D 1 mm 
    Gewicht:  54 gr 
    Seiten:  28 
    Zus. Info:  23:B&W 6 x 9 in or 229 x 152 mm Perfect Bound on White w/Gloss Lam 
    Bewertung: Titel bewerten / Meinung schreiben
    Inhalt:

    Excerpt from The Shrine of Death, And, the Shrine of Love At the first, the saying of the witch fell like a stone in the girl's heart, but ere long her words, and the words which she had heard in the hour of her birth, filled all her thoughts, and when other girls jested or spoke of feasts and merriment, of happy love and all the joys of life, such talk seemed to her mere wind of idle tales, and the gossips who would have made a match for her schemed in vain, for she had but one desire, the desire to woo Death, and learn the secrets of life. Often now she would seek the ramparts in late evening, hoping that in the sha dows she might once more find the witch, and learn from her the way to her desire; but she found her not. Returning in the darkness, it so happened, after one of these fruitless journeys, that she passed un der the walls of an ancient church, and looking upat the windows, she saw the ¿ickering of a low, un steady light upon the coloured panes, and she drew near to the door, and, seeing it ajar, she pushed it open and entered, and passing between the mighty columns of the nave, she stepped aside to the spot whence the light proceeded. Having done so, she found herself standing in front of a great tomb, in one side of which were brazen gates, and beyond the gates a long ¿ight of marble steps leading down to a vast hall or chapel below; and above the gates, in a silver lamp, a light was burning, and as the chains by which the lamp was suspended moved slightly in the draught from the open door of the church, the light which burnt in it ¿ickered, and all the shadows around shifted so that nothing seemed still, and this constant recurrence of change was like the dance of phantoms in the air. And the girl, seeing the blackness, thought of the corner on the ramparts where she had met the witch, and almost she expected to see her, and to hear her dog baying in the shadows. When she drew nearer, she found that the walls were loaded with sculpture, and the niches along the sides were filled with statues of the wise men of all time; but at the corners were four women whose heads were bowed, and whose hands were bound in chains. Then, looking at them as they sat thus, discrowned but majestic, the soul of the girl wasfilled with sorrow, and she fell weeping, and, clasp ing her hands in her grief, she cast her eyes to heaven. As she did so, the lamp swayed a little for wards, and its rays touched with light a figure seated on the top of the monument. When the girl caught sight of this figure she ceased weeping, and when she had withdrawn a step or two backwards, so as to get a fuller View, she fell upon her knees, and a gleam of wondrous expectation shone out of her face; for, on the top of the tomb, robed and crowned, sat the image of Death, and a great glad ness and awe filled her soul, for she thought, If I may but be found worthy to enter his portals, all the secrets of life will be mine. And laying her hands on the gates, she sought to open them,but they were locked, so after a little while she went sadly away Each day, from this time forth, when twilight fell, the girl returned to the church, and would there re main kneeling for many hours before the shrine of Death, nor could she by any means be drawn away from her purpose. Her mind was fixed on her de sire, so that she became insensible to all else; and the whole town mocked her, and her own people held her for mad. So then, at last, they took her be fore a priest, and the priest, when he had talked with her awhile, said, Let her have her way. Let her pass a night within the shrine; on the morrow it may be that her wits will have returned to her. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com

      
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