Thereis
one
heart
all
whose
thoughts
are
strong
,
happy
creatures
,
and
whose
very
dreams
are
lives
.
When
some
pray
,
they
lift
heavy
thoughts
from
the
ground
,
only
to
drop
them
on
it
again
;
others
send
up
their
prayers
in
living
shapes
,
this
or
that
,
the
nearest
likeness
to
each
.
All
live
things
were
thoughts
to
begin
with
,
and
are
fit
therefore
to
be
used
by
those
that
think
.
When
one
says
to
the
great
Thinker
:
—
"
Here
is
one
of
thy
thoughts
:
I
am
thinking
it
now
!
"
that
is
a
prayer
—
a
word
to
the
big
heart
from
one
of
its
own
little
hearts
.
—
Look
,
there
is
another
!
"
This
time
the
raven
pointed
his
beak
downward
—
to
something
at
the
foot
of
a
block
of
granite
.
I
looked
,
and
saw
a
little
flower
.
I
had
never
seen
one
like
it
before
,
and
cannot
utter
the
feeling
it
woke
in
me
by
its
gracious
,
trusting
form
,
its
colour
,
and
its
odour
as
of
a
new
world
that
was
yet
the
old
.
I
can
only
say
that
it
suggested
an
anemone
,
was
of
a
pale
rose-hue
,
and
had
a
golden
heart
.
"
That
is
a
prayer-flower
,
"
said
the
raven
.
"
I
never
saw
such
a
flower
before
!
"
I
rejoined
.
"
There
is
no
other
such
.
Not
one
prayer-flower
is
ever
quite
like
another
,
"
he
returned
.
"
How
do
you
know
it
a
prayer-flower
?
"
I
asked
.
"
By
the
expression
of
it
,
"
he
answered
.
"
More
than
that
I
cannot
tell
you
.
If
you
know
it
,
you
know
it
;
if
you
do
not
,
you
do
not
.
"
"
Could
you
not
teach
me
to
know
a
prayer-flower
when
I
see
it
?
"
I
said
.
"
I
could
not
.
But
if
I
could
,
what
better
would
you
be
?
you
would
not
know
it
of
your
self
and
it
self
!
Why
know
the
name
of
a
thing
when
the
thing
itself
you
do
not
know
?
Whose
work
is
it
but
your
own
to
open
your
eyes
?
But
indeed
the
business
of
the
universe
is
to
make
such
a
fool
of
you
that
you
will
know
yourself
for
one
,
and
so
begin
to
be
wise
!
"
But
I
did
see
that
the
flower
was
different
from
any
flower
I
had
ever
seen
before
;
therefore
I
knew
that
I
must
be
seeing
a
shadow
of
the
prayer
in
it
;
and
a
great
awe
came
over
me
to
think
of
the
heart
listening
to
the
flower
.
chapter
vi
THE
SEXTON
'S
COTTAGE
WE
had
been
for
some
time
walking
over
a
rocky
moorland
covered
with
dry
plants
and
mosses
,
when
I
descried
a
little
cottage
in
the
farthest
distance
.
The
sun
was
not
yet
down
,
but
he
was
wrapt
in
a
gray
cloud
.
The
heath
looked
as
if
it
had
never
been
warm
,
and
the
wind
blew
strangely
cold
,
as
if
from
some
region
where
it
was
always
night
.
"
Here
we
are
at
last
!
"
said
the
raven
.
"
What
a
long
way
it
is
!
In
half
the
time
I
could
have
gone
to
Paradise
and
seen
my
cousin
—
him
,
you
remember
,
who
never
came
back
to
Noah
!
Dear
!
dear
!
it
is
almost
winter
!
"
"
Winter
!
"
I
cried
;
"
it
seems
but
half
a
day
since
we
left
home
!
"
"
That
is
because
we
have
travelled
so
fast
,
"
answered
the
raven
.
"
In
your
world
you
cannot
pull
up
the
plumb-line
you
call
gravitation
,
and
let
the
world
spin
round
under
your
feet
!
But
here
is
my
wife
's
house
!
She
is
very
good
to
let
me
live
with
her
,
and
call
it
the
sexton
's
cottage
!
"
"
But
where
is
your
churchyard
—
your
cemetery
—
where
you
make
your
graves
,
I
mean
?
"
said
I
,
seeing
nothing
but
the
flat
heath
.
The
raven
stretched
his
neck
,
held
out
his
beak
horizontally
,
turned
it
slowly
round
to
all
the
points
of
the
compass
,
and
said
nothing
.
I
followed
the
beak
with
my
eyes
,
and
lo
,
without
church
or
graves
,
all
was
a
churchyard
!
Wherever
the
dreary
wind
swept
,
there
was
the
raven
's
cemetery
!
He
was
sexton
of
all
he
surveyed
!
lord
of
all
that
was
laid
aside
!
I
stood
in
the
burial-ground
of
the
universe
;
its
compass
the
unenclosed
heath
,
its
wall
the
gray
horizon
,
low
and
starless
!
I
had
left
spring
and
summer
,
autumn
and
sunshine
behind
me
,
and
come
to
the
winter
that
waited
for
me
!
I
had
set
out
in
the
prime
of
my
youth
,
and
here
I
was
already
!
—
But
I
mistook
.
The
day
might
well
be
long
in
that
region
,
for
it
contained
the
seasons
.
Winter
slept
there
,
the
night
through
,
in
his
winding-sheet
of
ice
;
with
childlike
smile
,
Spring
came
awake
in
the
dawn
;
at
noon
,
Summer
blazed
abroad
in
her
gorgeous
beauty
;
with
the
slow-changing
afternoon
,
old
Autumn
crept
in
,
and
died
at
the
first
breath
of
the
vaporous
,
ghosty
night
.
As
we
drew
near
the
cottage
,
the
clouded
sun
was
rushing
down
the
steepest
slope
of
the
west
,
and
he
sank
while
we
were
yet
a
few
yards
from
the
door
.
The
same
instant
I
was
assailed
by
a
cold
that
seemed
almost
a
material
presence
,
and
I
struggled
across
the
threshold
as
if
from
the
clutches
of
an
icy
death
.
A
wind
swelled
up
on
the
moor
,
and
rushed
at
the
door
as
with
difficulty
I
closed
it
behind
me
.
Then
all
was
still
,
and
I
looked
about
me
.
A
candle
burned
on
a
deal
table
in
the
middle
of
the
room
,
and
the
first
thing
I
saw
was
the
lid
of
a
coffin
,
as
I
thought
,
set
up
against
the
wall
;
but
it
opened
,
for
it
was
a
door
,
and
a
woman
entered
.
She
was
all
in
white
—
as
white
as
new-fallen
snow
;
and
her
face
was
as
white
as
her
dress
,
but
not
like
snow
,
for
at
once
it
suggested
warmth
.
I
thought
her
features
were
perfect
,
but
her
eyes
made
me
forget
them
.
The
life
of
her
face
and
her
whole
person
was
gathered
and
concentrated
in
her
eyes
,
where
it
became
light
.
It
might
have
been
coming
death
that
made
her
face
luminous
,
but
the
eyes
had
life
in
them
for
a
nation
—
large
,
and
dark
with
a
darkness
ever
deepening
as
I
gazed
.
A
whole
night-heaven
lay
condensed
in
each
pupil
;
all
the
stars
were
in
its
blackness
,
and
flashed
;
while
round
it
for
a
horizon
lay
coiled
an
iris
of
the
eternal
twilight
.
What
any
eye
is
,
God
only
knows
:
her
eyes
must
have
been
coming
direct
out
of
his
own
!
the
still
face
might
be
a
primeval
perfection
;
the
live
eyes
were
a
continuous
creation
.
"
Here
is
Mr.
Vane
,
wife
!
"
said
the
raven
.
"
He
is
welcome
,
"
she
answered
,
in
a
low
,
rich
,
gentle
voice
.
Treasures
of
immortal
sound
seemed
to
he
buried
in
it
.
I
gazed
,
and
could
not
speak
.
"
I
knew
you
would
be
glad
to
see
him
!
"
added
the
raven
.
She
stood
in
front
of
the
door
by
which
she
had
entered
,
and
did
not
come
nearer
.
"
Will
he
sleep
?
"
she
asked
.
"
I
fear
not
,
"
he
replied
;
"
he
is
neither
weary
nor
heavy
laden
.
"
"
Why
then
have
you
brought
him
?
"
"
I
have
my
fears
it
may
prove
precipitate
.
"
"
I
do
not
quite
understand
you
,
"
I
said
,
with
an
uneasy
foreboding
as
to
what
she
meant
,
but
a
vague
hope
of
some
escape
.
"
Surely
a
man
must
do
a
day
's
work
first
!
"
I
gazed
into
the
white
face
of
the
woman
,
and
my
heart
fluttered
.
She
returned
my
gaze
in
silence
.
"
Let
me
first
go
home
,
"
I
resumed
,
"
and
come
again
after
I
have
found
or
made
,
invented
,
or
at
least
discovered
something
!
"
"
He
has
not
yet
learned
that
the
day
begins
with
sleep
!
"
said
the
woman
,
turning
to
her
husband
.
"
Tell
him
he
must
rest
before
he
can
do
anything
!
"
"
Men
,
"
he
answered
,
"
think
so
much
of
having
done
,
that
they
fall
asleep
upon
it
.
They
cannot
empty
an
egg
but
they
turn
into
the
shell
,
and
lie
down
!
"
The
words
drew
my
eyes
from
the
woman
to
the
raven
.
I
saw
no
raven
,
but
the
librarian
—
the
same
slender
elderly
man
,
in
a
rusty
black
coat
,
large
in
the
body
and
long
in
the
tails
.
I
had
seen
only
his
back
before
;
now
for
the
first
time
I
saw
his
face
.
It
was
so
thin
that
it
showed
the
shape
of
the
bones
under
it
,
suggesting
the
skulls
his
last-claimed
profession
must
have
made
him
familiar
with
.
But
in
truth
I
had
never
before
seen
a
face
so
alive
,
or
a
look
so
keen
or
so
friendly
as
that
in
his
pale
blue
eyes
,
which
yet
had
a
haze
about
them
as
if
they
had
done
much
weeping
.
"
You
knew
I
was
not
a
raven
!
"
he
said
with
a
smile
.
"
I
knew
you
were
Mr.
Raven
,
"
I
replied
;
"
but
somehow
I
thought
you
a
bird
too
!
"
"
What
made
you
think
me
a
bird
?
"
"
You
looked
a
raven
,
and
I
saw
you
dig
worms
out
of
the
earth
with
your
beak
.
"
"
And
then
?
"
"
Toss
them
in
the
air
.
"
"
And
then
?
"
"
They
grew
butterflies
,
and
flew
away
.
"
"
Did
you
ever
see
a
raven
do
that
?
I
told
you
I
was
a
sexton
!
"
"
Does
a
sexton
toss
worms
in
the
air
,
and
turn
them
into
butterflies
?
"
"
Yes
.
"
"
I
never
saw
one
do
it
!
"
"
You
saw
me
do
it
!
—
But
I
am
still
librarian
in
your
house
,
for
I
never
was
dismissed
,
and
never
gave
up
the
office
.
Now
I
am
librarian
here
as
well
.
"
"
But
you
have
just
told
me
you
were
sexton
here
!
"
"
So
I
am
.
It
is
much
the
same
profession
.
Except
you
are
a
true
sexton
,
books
are
but
dead
bodies
to
you
,
and
a
library
nothing
but
a
catacomb
!
"
"
You
bewilder
me
!
"
"
That
's
all
right
!
"
A
few
moments
he
stood
silent
.
The
woman
,
moveless
as
a
statue
,
stood
silent
also
by
the
coffin-door
.
"
Upon
occasion
,
"
said
the
sexton
at
length
,
"
it
is
more
convenient
to
put
one
's
bird-self
in
front
.
Every
one
,
as
you
ought
to
know
,
has
a
beast-self
—
and
a
bird-self
,
and
a
stupid
fish-self
,
ay
,
and
a
creeping
serpent-self
too
—
which
it
takes
a
deal
of
crushing
to
kill
!
In
truth
he
has
also
a
tree-self
and
a
crystal-self
,
and
I
do
n't
know
how
many
selves
more
—
all
to
get
into
harmony
.
You
can
tell
what
sort
a
man
is
by
his
creature
that
comes
oftenest
to
the
front
.
"
He
turned
to
his
wife
,
and
I
considered
him
more
closely
.
He
was
above
the
ordinary
height
,
and
stood
more
erect
than
when
last
I
saw
him
.
His
face
was
,
like
his
wife
's
,
very
pale
;
its
nose
handsomely
encased
the
beak
that
had
retired
within
it
;
its
lips
were
very
thin
,
and
even
they
had
no
colour
,
but
their
curves
were
beautiful
,
and
about
them
quivered
a
shadowy
smile
that
had
humour
in
it
as
well
as
love
and
pity
.
"
We
are
in
want
of
something
to
eat
and
drink
,
wife
,
"
he
said
;
"
we
have
come
a
long
way
!
"
"
You
know
,
husband
,
"
she
answered
,
"
we
can
give
only
to
him
that
asks
.
"
She
turned
her
unchanging
face
and
radiant
eyes
upon
mine
.
"
Please
give
me
something
to
eat
,
Mrs.
Raven
,
"
I
said
,
"
and
something
—
what
you
will
—
to
quench
my
thirst
.
"
"
Your
thirst
must
be
greater
before
you
can
have
what
will
quench
it
,
"
she
replied
;
"
but
what
I
can
give
you
,
I
will
gladly
.
"
She
went
to
a
cupboard
in
the
wall
,
brought
from
it
bread
and
wine
,
and
set
them
on
the
table
.
We
sat
down
to
the
perfect
meal
;
and
as
I
ate
,
the
bread
and
wine
seemed
to
go
deeper
than
the
hunger
and
thirst
.
Anxiety
and
discomfort
vanished
;
expectation
took
their
place
.
I
grew
very
sleepy
,
and
now
first
felt
weary
.
"
I
have
earned
neither
food
nor
sleep
,
Mrs.
Raven
,
"
I
said
,
"
but
you
have
given
me
the
one
freely
,
and
now
I
hope
you
will
give
me
the
other
,
for
I
sorely
need
it
.
"
"
Sleep
is
too
fine
a
thing
ever
to
be
earned
,
"
said
the
sexton
;
"
it
must
be
given
and
accepted
,
for
it
is
a
necessity
.
But
it
would
be
perilous
to
use
this
house
as
a
half-way
hostelry
—
for
the
repose
of
a
night
,
that
is
,
merely
.
"
A
wild-looking
little
black
cat
jumped
on
his
knee
as
he
spoke
.
He
patted
it
as
one
pats
a
child
to
make
it
go
to
sleep
:
he
seemed
to
me
patting
down
the
sod
upon
a
grave
—
patting
it
lovingly
,
with
an
inward
lullaby
.
"
Here
is
one
of
Mara
's
kittens
!
"
he
said
to
his
wife
:
"
will
you
give
it
something
and
put
it
out
?
she
may
want
it
!
"
The
woman
took
it
from
him
gently
,
gave
it
a
little
piece
of
bread
,
and
went
out
with
it
,
closing
the
door
behind
her
.
"
How
then
am
I
to
make
use
of
your
hospitality
?
"
I
asked
.
"
By
accepting
it
to
the
full
,
"
he
answered
.
"
I
do
not
understand
.
"
"
In
this
house
no
one
wakes
of
himself
.
"
"
Why
?
"
"
Because
no
one
anywhere
ever
wakes
of
himself
.
You
can
wake
yourself
no
more
than
you
can
make
yourself
.
"
"
Then
perhaps
you
or
Mrs.
Raven
would
kindly
call
me
!
"
I
said
,
still
nowise
understanding
,
but
feeling
afresh
that
vague
foreboding
.
"
We
cannot
.
"
"
How
dare
I
then
go
to
sleep
?
"
I
cried
.
"
If
you
would
have
the
rest
of
this
house
,
you
must
not
trouble
yourself
about
waking
.
You
must
go
to
sleep
heartily
,
altogether
and
outright
.
"
My
soul
sank
within
me
.
The
sexton
sat
looking
me
in
the
face
.
His
eyes
seemed
to
say
,
"
Will
you
not
trust
me
?
"
I
returned
his
gaze
,
and
answered
,
"
I
will
.
"
"
Then
come
,
"
he
said
;
"
I
will
show
you
your
couch
.
"
As
we
rose
,
the
woman
came
in
.
She
took
up
the
candle
,
turned
to
the
inner
door
,
and
led
the
way
.
I
went
close
behind
her
,
and
the
sexton
followed
.
chapter
vii
THE
CEMETERY
THE
air
as
of
an
ice-house
met
me
crossing
the
threshold
.
The
door
fell-to
behind
us
.
The
sexton
said
something
to
his
wife
that
made
her
turn
toward
us
.
—
What
a
change
had
passed
upon
her
!
It
was
as
if
the
splendour
of
her
eyes
had
grown
too
much
for
them
to
hold
,
and
,
sinking
into
her
countenance
,
made
it
flash
with
a
loveliness
like
that
of
Beatrice
in
the
white
rose
of
the
redeemed
.
Life
itself
,
life
eternal
,
immortal
,
streamed
from
it
,
an
unbroken
lightning
.
Even
her
hands
shone
with
a
white
radiance
,
every
"
pearl-shell
helmet
"
gleaming
like
a
moonstone
.
Her
beauty
was
overpowering
;
I
was
glad
when
she
turned
it
from
me
.
But
the
light
of
the
candle
reached
such
a
little
way
,
that
at
first
I
could
see
nothing
of
the
place
.
Presently
,
however
,
it
fell
on
something
that
glimmered
,
a
little
raised
from
the
floor
.
Was
it
a
bed
?
Could
live
thing
sleep
in
such
a
mortal
cold
?
Then
surely
it
was
no
wonder
it
should
not
wake
of
itself
!
Beyond
that
appeared
a
fainter
shine
;
and
then
I
thought
I
descried
uncertain
gleams
on
every
side
.
A
few
paces
brought
us
to
the
first
;
it
was
a
human
form
under
a
sheet
,
straight
and
still
—
whether
of
man
or
woman
I
could
not
tell
,
for
the
light
seemed
to
avoid
the
face
as
we
passed
.
I
soon
perceived
that
we
were
walking
along
an
aisle
of
couches
,
on
almost
every
one
of
which
,
with
its
head
to
the
passage
,
lay
something
asleep
or
dead
,
covered
with
a
sheet
white
as
snow
.
My
soul
grew
silent
with
dread
.
Through
aisle
after
aisle
we
went
,
among
couches
innumerable
.
I
could
see
only
a
few
of
them
at
once
,
but
they
were
on
all
sides
,
vanishing
,
as
it
seemed
,
in
the
infinite
.
—
Was
it
here
lay
my
choice
of
a
bed
?
Must
I
go
to
sleep
among
the
unwaking
,
with
no
one
to
rouse
me
?
Was
this
the
sexton
's
library
?
were
these
his
books
?
Truly
it
was
no
half-way
house
,
this
chamber
of
the
dead
!
"
One
of
the
cellars
I
am
placed
to
watch
!
"
remarked
Mr.
Raven
—
in
a
low
voice
,
as
if
fearing
to
disturb
his
silent
guests
.
"
Much
wine
is
set
here
to
ripen
!
—
But
it
is
dark
for
a
stranger
!
"
he
added
.
"
The
moon
is
rising
;
she
will
soon
be
here
,
"
said
his
wife
,
and
her
clear
voice
,
low
and
sweet
,
sounded
of
ancient
sorrow
long
bidden
adieu
.
Even
as
she
spoke
the
moon
looked
in
at
an
opening
in
the
wall
,
and
a
thousand
gleams
of
white
responded
to
her
shine
.
But
not
yet
could
I
descry
beginning
or
end
of
the
couches
.
They
stretched
away
and
away
,
as
if
for
all
the
disparted
world
to
sleep
upon
.
For
along
the
far
receding
narrow
ways
,
every
couch
stood
by
itself
,
and
on
each
slept
a
lonely
sleeper
.
I
thought
at
first
their
sleep
was
death
,
but
I
soon
saw
it
was
something
deeper
still
—
a
something
I
did
not
know
.
The
moon
rose
higher
,
and
shone
through
other
openings
,
but
I
could
never
see
enough
of
the
place
at
once
to
know
its
shape
or
character
;
now
it
would
resemble
a
long
cathedral
nave
,
now
a
huge
barn
made
into
a
dwelling
of
tombs
.
She
looked
colder
than
any
moon
in
the
frostiest
night
of
the
world
,
and
where
she
shone
direct
upon
them
,
cast
a
bluish
,
icy
gleam
on
the
white
sheets
and
the
pallid
countenances
—
but
it
might
be
the
faces
that
made
the
moon
so
cold
!
Of
such
as
I
could
see
,
all
were
alike
in
the
brotherhood
of
death
,
all
unlike
in
the
character
and
history
recorded
upon
them
.
Here
lay
a
man
who
had
died
—
for
although
this
was
not
death
,
I
have
no
other
name
to
give
it
—
in
the
prime
of
manly
strength
;
his
dark
beard
seemed
to
flow
like
a
liberated
stream
from
the
glacier
of
his
frozen
countenance
;
his
forehead
was
smooth
as
polished
marble
;
a
shadow
of
pain
lingered
about
his
lips
,
but
only
a
shadow
.
On
the
next
couch
lay
the
form
of
a
girl
,
passing
lovely
to
behold
.
The
sadness
left
on
her
face
by
parting
was
not
yet
absorbed
in
perfect
peace
,
but
absolute
submission
possessed
the
placid
features
,
which
bore
no
sign
of
wasting
disease
,
of
"
killing
care
or
grief
of
heart
:
"
if
pain
had
been
there
,
it
was
long
charmed
asleep
,
never
again
to
wake
.
Many
were
the
beautiful
that
there
lay
very
still
—
some
of
them
mere
children
;
but
I
did
not
see
one
infant
.
The
most
beautiful
of
all
was
a
lady
whose
white
hair
,
and
that
alone
,
suggested
her
old
when
first
she
fell
asleep
.
On
her
stately
countenance
rested
—
not
submission
,
but
a
right
noble
acquiescence
,
an
assurance
,
firm
as
the
foundations
of
the
universe
,
that
all
was
as
it
should
be
.
On
some
faces
lingered
the
almost
obliterated
scars
of
strife
,
the
marrings
of
hopeless
loss
,
the
fading
shadows
of
sorrows
that
had
seemed
inconsolable
:
the
aurora
of
the
great
morning
had
not
yet
quite
melted
them
away
;
but
those
faces
were
few
,
and
every
one
that
bore
such
brand
of
pain
seemed
to
plead
,
"
Pardon
me
:
I
died
only
yesterday
!
"
or
,
"
Pardon
me
:
I
died
but
a
century
ago
!
"
That
some
had
been
dead
for
ages
I
knew
,
not
merely
by
their
unutterable
repose
,
but
by
something
for
which
I
have
neither
word
nor
symbol
.
We
came
at
last
to
three
empty
couches
,
immediately
beyond
which
lay
the
form
of
a
beautiful
woman
,
a
little
past
the
prime
of
life
.
One
of
her
arms
was
outside
the
sheet
,
and
her
hand
lay
with
the
palm
upward
,
in
its
centre
a
dark
spot
.
Next
to
her
was
the
stalwart
figure
of
a
man
of
middle
age
.
His
arm
too
was
outside
the
sheet
,
the
strong
hand
almost
closed
,
as
if
clenched
on
the
grip
of
a
sword
.
I
thought
he
must
be
a
king
who
had
died
fighting
for
the
truth
.
"
Will
you
hold
the
candle
nearer
,
wife
?
"
whispered
the
sexton
,
bending
down
to
examine
the
woman
's
hand
.
"
It
heals
well
,
"
he
murmured
to
himself
;
"
the
nail
found
in
her
nothing
to
hurt
!
"
At
last
I
ventured
to
speak
.
"
Are
they
not
dead
?
"
I
asked
softly
.
"
I
cannot
answer
you
,
"
he
replied
in
a
subdued
voice
.
"
I
almost
forget
what
they
mean
by
dead
in
the
old
world
.
If
I
said
a
person
was
dead
,
my
wife
would
understand
one
thing
,
and
you
would
imagine
another
.
—
This
is
but
one
of
my
treasure
vaults
,
"
he
went
on
,
"
and
all
my
guests
are
not
laid
in
vaults
:
out
there
on
the
moor
they
lie
thick
as
the
leaves
of
a
forest
after
the
first
blast
of
your
winter
—
thick
,
let
me
say
rather
,
as
if
the
great
white
rose
of
heaven
had
shed
its
petals
over
it
.
All
night
the
moon
reads
their
faces
,
and
smiles
.
"
"
But
why
leave
them
in
the
corrupting
moonlight
?
"
I
asked
.
"
Our
moon
,
"
he
answered
,
"
is
not
like
yours
—
the
old
cinder
of
a
burnt-out
world
;
her
beams
embalm
the
dead
,
not
corrupt
them
.
You
observe
that
here
the
sexton
lays
his
dead
on
the
earth
;
be
buries
very
few
under
it
!
In
your
world
he
lays
huge
stones
on
them
,
as
if
to
keep
them
down
;
I
watch
for
the
hour
to
ring
the
resurrection-bell
,
and
wake
those
that
are
still
asleep
.
Your
sexton
looks
at
the
clock
to
know
when
to
ring
the
dead-alive
to
church
;
I
hearken
for
the
cock
on
the
spire
to
crow
;
`
Awake
,
thou
that
sleepest
,
and
arise
from
the
dead
!
'
"
I
began
to
conclude
that
the
self-styled
sexton
was
in
truth
an
insane
parson
:
the
whole
thing
was
too
mad
!
But
how
was
I
to
get
away
from
it
?
I
was
helpless
!
In
this
world
of
the
dead
,
the
raven
and
his
wife
were
the
only
living
I
had
yet
seen
:
whither
should
I
turn
for
help
?
I
was
lost
in
a
space
larger
than
imagination
;
for
if
here
two
things
,
or
any
parts
of
them
,
could
occupy
the
same
space
,
why
not
twenty
or
ten
thousand
?
—
But
I
dared
not
think
further
in
that
direction
.
"
You
seem
in
your
dead
to
see
differences
beyond
my
perception
!
"
I
ventured
to
remark
.
"
None
of
those
you
see
,
"
he
answered
,
"
are
in
truth
quite
dead
yet
,
and
some
have
but
just
begun
to
come
alive
and
die
.
Others
had
begun
to
die
,
that
is
to
come
alive
,
long
before
they
came
to
us
;
and
when
such
are
indeed
dead
,
that
instant
they
will
wake
and
leave
us
.
Almost
every
night
some
rise
and
go
.
But
I
will
not
say
more
,
for
I
find
my
words
only
mislead
you
!
—
This
is
the
couch
that
has
been
waiting
for
you
,
"
he
ended
,
pointing
to
one
of
the
three
.
"
Why
just
this
?
"
I
said
,
beginning
to
tremble
,
and
anxious
by
parley
to
delay
.
"
For
reasons
which
one
day
you
will
be
glad
to
know
,
"
he
answered
.
"
Why
not
know
them
now
?
"
"
That
also
you
will
know
when
you
wake
.
"
"
But
these
are
all
dead
,
and
I
am
alive
!
"
I
objected
,
shuddering
.
"
Not
much
,
"
rejoined
the
sexton
with
a
smile
,
"
—
not
nearly
enough
!
Blessed
be
the
true
life
that
the
pauses
between
its
throbs
are
not
death
!
"
"
The
place
is
too
cold
to
let
one
sleep
!
"
I
said
.
"
Do
these
find
it
so
?
"
he
returned
.
"
They
sleep
well
—
or
will
soon
.
Of
cold
they
feel
not
a
breath
:
it
heals
their
wounds
.
—
Do
not
be
a
coward
,
Mr.
Vane
.
Turn
your
back
on
fear
,
and
your
face
to
whatever
may
come
.
Give
yourself
up
to
the
night
,
and
you
will
rest
indeed
.
Harm
will
not
come
to
you
,
but
a
good
you
cannot
foreknow
.
"
The
sexton
and
I
stood
by
the
side
of
the
couch
,
his
wife
,
with
the
candle
in
her
hand
,
at
the
foot
of
it
.
Her
eyes
were
full
of
light
,
but
her
face
was
again
of
a
still
whiteness
;
it
was
no
longer
radiant
.
"
Would
they
have
me
make
of
a
charnel-house
my
bed-chamber
?
"
I
cried
aloud
.
"
I
will
not
.
I
will
lie
abroad
on
the
heath
;
it
cannot
be
colder
there
!
"
"
I
have
just
told
you
that
the
dead
are
there
also
,
`
Thick
as
autumnal
leaves
that
strow
the
brooks
In
Vallombrosa
,
'
"
said
the
librarian
.
"
I
will
not
,
"
I
cried
again
;
and
in
the
compassing
dark
,
the
two
gleamed
out
like
spectres
that
waited
on
the
dead
;
neither
answered
me
;
each
stood
still
and
sad
,
and
looked
at
the
other
.
"
Be
of
good
comfort
;
we
watch
the
flock
of
the
great
shepherd
,
"
said
the
sexton
to
his
wife
.
Then
he
turned
to
me
.
"
Didst
thou
not
find
the
air
of
the
place
pure
and
sweet
when
thou
enteredst
it
?
"
he
asked
.
"
Yes
;
but
oh
,
so
cold
!
"
I
answered
.
"
Then
know
,
"
he
returned
,
and
his
voice
was
stern
,
"
that
thou
who
callest
thyself
alive
,
hast
brought
into
this
chamber
the
odours
of
death
,
and
its
air
will
not
be
wholesome
for
the
sleepers
until
thou
art
gone
from
it
!
"
They
went
farther
into
the
great
chamber
,
and
I
was
left
alone
in
the
moonlight
with
the
dead
.
I
turned
to
escape
.
What
a
long
way
I
found
it
back
through
the
dead
!
At
first
I
was
too
angry
to
be
afraid
,
but
as
I
grew
calm
,
the
still
shapes
grew
terrible
.
At
last
,
with
loud
offence
to
the
gracious
silence
,
I
ran
,
I
fled
wildly
,
and
,
bursting
out
,
flung-to
the
door
behind
me
.
It
closed
with
an
awful
silence
.
I
stood
in
pitch-darkness
.
Feeling
about
me
,
I
found
a
door
,
opened
it
,
and
was
aware
of
the
dim
light
of
a
lamp
.
I
stood
in
my
library
,
with
the
handle
of
the
masked
door
in
my
hand
.
Had
I
come
to
myself
out
of
a
vision
?
—
or
lost
myself
by
going
back
to
one
?
Which
was
the
real
—
what
I
now
saw
,
or
what
I
had
just
ceased
to
see
?
Could
both
be
real
,
interpenetrating
yet
unmingling
?
I
threw
myself
on
a
couch
,
and
fell
asleep
.
In
the
library
was
one
small
window
to
the
east
,
through
which
,
at
this
time
of
the
year
,
the
first
rays
of
the
sun
shone
upon
a
mirror
whence
they
were
reflected
on
the
masked
door
:
when
I
woke
,
there
they
shone
,
and
thither
they
drew
my
eyes
.
With
the
feeling
that
behind
it
must
lie
the
boundless
chamber
I
had
left
by
that
door
,
I
sprang
to
my
feet
,
and
opened
it
.
The
light
,
like
an
eager
hound
,
shot
before
me
into
the
closet
,
and
pounced
upon
the
gilded
edges
of
a
large
book
.
"
What
idiot
,
"
I
cried
,
"
has
put
that
book
in
the
shelf
the
wrong
way
?
"
But
the
gilded
edges
,
reflecting
the
light
a
second
time
,
flung
it
on
a
nest
of
drawers
in
a
dark
corner
,
and
I
saw
that
one
of
them
was
half
open
.
"
More
meddling
!
"
I
cried
,
and
went
to
close
the
drawer
.
It
contained
old
papers
,
and
seemed
more
than
full
,
for
it
would
not
close
.
Taking
the
topmost
one
out
,
I
perceived
that
it
was
in
my
father
's
writing
and
of
some
length
.
The
words
on
which
first
my
eyes
fell
,
at
once
made
me
eager
to
learn
what
it
contained
.
I
carried
it
to
the
library
,
sat
down
in
one
of
the
western
windows
,
and
read
what
follows
.
chapter
viii
MY
FATHER
'S
MANUSCRIPT
I
AM
filled
with
awe
of
what
I
have
to
write
.
The
sun
is
shining
golden
above
me
;
the
sea
lies
blue
beneath
his
gaze
;
the
same
world
sends
its
growing
things
up
to
the
sun
,
and
its
flying
things
into
the
air
which
I
have
breathed
from
my
infancy
;
but
I
know
the
outspread
splendour
a
passing
show
,
and
that
at
any
moment
it
may
,
like
the
drop-scene
of
a
stage
,
be
lifted
to
reveal
more
wonderful
things
.
Shortly
after
my
father
's
death
,
I
was
seated
one
morning
in
the
library
.
I
had
been
,
somewhat
listlessly
,
regarding
the
portrait
that
hangs
among
the
books
,
which
I
knew
only
as
that
of
a
distant
ancestor
,
and
wishing
I
could
learn
something
of
its
original
.
Then
I
had
taken
a
book
from
the
shelves
and
begun
to
read
.
Glancing
up
from
it
,
I
saw
coming
toward
me
—
not
between
me
and
the
door
,
but
between
me
and
the
portrait
—
a
thin
pale
man
in
rusty
black
.
He
looked
sharp
and
eager
,
and
had
a
notable
nose
,
at
once
reminding
me
of
a
certain
jug
my
sisters
used
to
call
Mr.
Crow
.
"
Finding
myself
in
your
vicinity
,
Mr.
Vane
,
I
have
given
myself
the
pleasure
of
calling
,
"
he
said
,
in
a
peculiar
but
not
disagreeable
voice
.
"
Your
honoured
grandfather
treated
me
—
I
may
say
it
without
presumption
—
as
a
friend
,
having
known
me
from
childhood
as
his
father
's
librarian
.
"
It
did
not
strike
me
at
the
time
how
old
the
man
must
be
.
"
May
I
ask
where
you
live
now
,
Mr.
Crow
?
"
I
said
.
He
smiled
an
amused
smile
.
"
You
nearly
hit
my
name
,
"
he
rejoined
,
"
which
shows
the
family
insight
.
You
have
seen
me
before
,
but
only
once
,
and
could
not
then
have
heard
it
!
"
"
Where
was
that
?
"
"
In
this
very
room
.
You
were
quite
a
child
,
however
!
"
I
could
not
be
sure
that
I
remembered
him
,
but
for
a
moment
I
fancied
I
did
,
and
I
begged
him
to
set
me
right
as
to
his
name
.
"
There
is
such
a
thing
as
remembering
without
recognising
the
memory
in
it
,
"
he
remarked
.
"
For
my
name
—
which
you
have
near
enough
—
it
used
to
be
Raven
.
"
I
had
heard
the
name
,
for
marvellous
tales
had
brought
it
me
.
"
It
is
very
kind
of
you
to
come
and
see
me
,
"
I
said
.
"
Will
you
not
sit
down
?
"
He
seated
himself
at
once
.
"
You
knew
my
father
,
then
,
I
presume
?
"
"
I
knew
him
,
"
he
answered
with
a
curious
smile
,
"
but
he
did
not
care
about
my
acquaintance
,
and
we
never
met
.
—
That
gentleman
,
however
,
"
he
added
,
pointing
to
the
portrait
,
"
—
old
Sir
Up'ard
,
his
people
called
him
,
—
was
in
his
day
a
friend
of
mine
yet
more
intimate
than
ever
your
grandfather
became
.
"
Then
at
length
I
began
to
think
the
interview
a
strange
one
.
But
in
truth
it
was
hardly
stranger
that
my
visitor
should
remember
Sir
Upward
,
than
that
he
should
have
been
my
great-grandfather
's
librarian
!
"
I
owe
him
much
,
"
he
continued
;
"
for
,
although
I
had
read
many
more
books
than
he
,
yet
,
through
the
special
direction
of
his
studies
,
he
was
able
to
inform
me
of
a
certain
relation
of
modes
which
I
should
never
have
discovered
of
myself
,
and
could
hardly
have
learned
from
any
one
else
.
"
"
Would
you
mind
telling
me
all
about
that
?
"
I
said
.
"
By
no
means
—
as
much
at
least
as
I
am
able
:
there
are
not
such
things
as
wilful
secrets
,
"
he
answered
—
and
went
on
.
"
That
closet
held
his
library
—
a
hundred
manuscripts
or
so
,
for
printing
was
not
then
invented
.
One
morning
I
sat
there
,
working
at
a
catalogue
of
them
,
when
he
looked
in
at
the
door
,
and
said
,
`
Come
.
'
I
laid
down
my
pen
and
followed
him
—
across
the
great
hall
,
down
a
steep
rough
descent
,
and
along
an
underground
passage
to
a
tower
he
had
lately
built
,
consisting
of
a
stair
and
a
room
at
the
top
of
it
.
The
door
of
this
room
had
a
tremendous
lock
,
which
he
undid
with
the
smallest
key
I
ever
saw
.
I
had
scarcely
crossed
the
threshold
after
him
,
when
,
to
my
eyes
,
he
began
to
dwindle
,
and
grew
less
and
less
.
All
at
once
my
vision
seemed
to
come
right
,
and
I
saw
that
he
was
moving
swiftly
away
from
me
.
In
a
minute
more
he
was
the
merest
speck
in
the
distance
,
with
the
tops
of
blue
mountains
beyond
him
,
clear
against
a
sky
of
paler
blue
.
I
recognised
the
country
,
for
I
had
gone
there
and
come
again
many
a
time
,
although
I
had
never
known
this
way
to
it
.
"
Many
years
after
,
when
the
tower
had
long
disappeared
,
I
taught
one
of
his
descendants
what
Sir
Upward
had
taught
me
;
and
now
and
then
to
this
day
I
use
your
house
when
I
want
to
go
the
nearest
way
home
.
I
must
indeed
—
without
your
leave
,
for
which
I
ask
your
pardon
—
have
by
this
time
well
established
a
right
of
way
through
it
—
not
from
front
to
back
,
but
from
bottom
to
top
!
"
"
You
would
have
me
then
understand
,
Mr.
Raven
,
"
I
said
,
"
that
you
go
through
my
house
into
another
world
,
heedless
of
disparting
space
?
"
"
That
I
go
through
it
is
an
incontrovertible
acknowledgement
of
space
,
"
returned
the
old
librarian
.
"
Please
do
not
quibble
,
Mr.
Raven
,
"
I
rejoined
.
"
Please
to
take
my
question
as
you
know
I
mean
it
.
"
"
There
is
in
your
house
a
door
,
one
step
through
which
carries
me
into
a
world
very
much
another
than
this
.
"
"
A
better
?
"
"
Not
throughout
;
but
so
much
another
that
most
of
its
physical
,
and
many
of
its
mental
laws
are
different
from
those
of
this
world
.
As
for
moral
laws
,
they
must
everywhere
be
fundamentally
the
same
.
"
"
You
try
my
power
of
belief
!
"
I
said
.
"
You
take
me
for
a
madman
,
probably
?
"
"
You
do
not
look
like
one
.
"
"
A
liar
then
?
"
"
You
give
me
no
ground
to
think
you
such
.
"
"
Only
you
do
not
believe
me
?
"
"
I
will
go
out
of
that
door
with
you
if
you
like
:
I
believe
in
you
enough
to
risk
the
attempt
.
"
"
The
blunder
all
my
children
make
!
"
he
murmured
.
"
The
only
door
out
is
the
door
in
!
"
I
began
to
think
he
must
be
crazy
.
He
sat
silent
for
a
moment
,
his
head
resting
on
his
hand
,
his
elbow
on
the
table
,
and
his
eyes
on
the
books
before
him
.
"
A
book
,
"
he
said
louder
,
"
is
a
door
in
,
and
therefore
a
door
out
.
—
I
see
old
Sir
Up'ard
,
"
he
went
on
,
closing
his
eyes
,
"
and
my
heart
swells
with
love
to
him
:
—
what
world
is
he
in
?
"
"
The
world
of
your
heart
!
"
I
replied
;
"
—
that
is
,
the
idea
of
him
is
there
.
"
"
There
is
one
world
then
at
least
on
which
your
hall-door
does
not
open
?
"
"
I
grant
you
so
much
;
but
the
things
in
that
world
are
not
things
to
have
and
to
hold
.
"
"
Think
a
little
farther
,
"
he
rejoined
:
"
did
anything
ever
become
yours
,
except
by
getting
into
that
world
?
—
The
thought
is
beyond
you
,
however
,
at
present
!
—
I
tell
you
there
are
more
worlds
,
and
more
doors
to
them
,
than
you
will
think
of
in
many
years
!
"
He
rose
,
left
the
library
,
crossed
the
hall
,
and
went
straight
up
to
the
garret
,
familiar
evidently
with
every
turn
.
I
followed
,
studying
his
back
.
His
hair
hung
down
long
and
dark
,
straight
and
glossy
.
His
coat
was
wide
and
reached
to
his
heels
.
His
shoes
seemed
too
large
for
him
.
In
the
garret
a
light
came
through
at
the
edges
of
the
great
roofing
slabs
,
and
showed
us
parts
where
was
no
flooring
,
and
we
must
step
from
joist
to
joist
:
in
the
middle
of
one
of
these
spaces
rose
a
partition
,
with
a
door
:
through
it
I
followed
Mr.
Raven
into
a
small
,
obscure
chamber
,
whose
top
contracted
as
it
rose
,
and
went
slanting
through
the
roof
.
"
That
is
the
door
I
spoke
of
,
"
he
said
,
pointing
to
an
oblong
mirror
that
stood
on
the
floor
and
leaned
against
the
wall
.
I
went
in
front
of
it
,
and
saw
our
figures
dimly
reflected
in
its
dusty
face
.
There
was
something
about
it
that
made
me
uneasy
.
It
looked
old-fashioned
and
neglected
,
but
,
notwithstanding
its
ordinary
seeming
,
the
eagle
,
perched
with
outstretched
wings
on
the
top
,
appeared
threatful
.
"
As
a
mirror
,
"
said
the
librarian
,
"
it
has
grown
dingy
with
age
;
but
that
is
no
matter
:
its
doorness
depends
on
the
light
.
"
"
Light
!
"
I
rejoined
;
"
there
is
no
light
here
!
"
He
did
not
answer
me
,
but
began
to
pull
at
a
little
chain
on
the
opposite
wall
.
I
heard
a
creaking
:
the
top
of
the
chamber
was
turning
slowly
round
.
He
ceased
pulling
,
looked
at
his
watch
,
and
began
to
pull
again
.
"
We
arrive
almost
to
the
moment
!
"
he
said
;
"
it
is
on
the
very
stroke
of
noon
!
"
The
top
went
creaking
and
revolving
for
a
minute
or
so
.
Then
he
pulled
two
other
chains
,
now
this
,
now
that
,
and
returned
to
the
first
.
A
moment
more
and
the
chamber
grew
much
clearer
:
a
patch
of
sunlight
had
fallen
upon
a
mirror
on
the
wall
opposite
that
against
which
the
other
leaned
,
and
on
the
dust
I
saw
the
path
of
the
reflected
rays
to
the
mirror
on
the
ground
.
But
from
the
latter
none
were
returned
;
they
seemed
to
go
clean
through
;
there
was
nowhere
in
the
chamber
a
second
patch
of
light
!
"
Where
are
the
sunrays
gone
?
"
I
cried
.
"
That
I
cannot
tell
,
"
returned
Mr.
Raven
;
"
—
back
,
perhaps
,
to
where
they
came
from
first
.
They
now
belong
,
I
fancy
,
to
a
sense
not
yet
developed
in
us
.
"
He
then
talked
of
the
relations
of
mind
to
matter
,
and
of
senses
to
qualities
,
in
a
way
I
could
only
a
little
understand
,
whence
he
went
on
to
yet
stranger
things
which
I
could
not
at
all
apprehend
.
He
spoke
much
about
dimensions
,
telling
me
there
were
many
more
than
three
,
some
of
them
concerned
with
powers
which
were
indeed
in
us
,
but
of
which
as
yet
we
knew
absolutely
nothing
.
His
words
,
however
,
I
confess
,
took
little
more
hold
of
me
than
the
light
did
of
the
mirror
,
for
I
thought
he
hardly
knew
what
he
was
saying
.
Suddenly
I
was
aware
that
our
forms
had
gone
from
the
mirror
,
which
seemed
full
of
a
white
mist
.
As
I
gazed
I
saw
,
growing
gradually
visible
beyond
the
mist
,
the
tops
of
a
range
of
mountains
,
which
became
clearer
and
clearer
.
Soon
the
mist
vanished
entirely
,
uncovering
the
face
of
a
wide
heath
,
on
which
,
at
some
distance
,
was
the
figure
of
a
man
moving
swiftly
away
.
I
turned
to
address
my
companion
;
he
was
no
longer
by
my
side
.
I
looked
again
at
the
form
in
the
mirror
,
and
recognised
the
wide
coat
flying
,
the
black
hair
lifting
in
a
wind
that
did
not
touch
me
.
I
rushed
in
terror
from
the
place
.
chapter
ix
I
REPENT
I
LAID
the
manuscript
down
,
consoled
to
find
that
my
father
had
had
a
peep
into
that
mysterious
world
,
and
that
he
knew
Mr.
Raven
.
Then
I
remembered
that
I
had
never
heard
the
cause
or
any
circumstance
of
my
father
's
death
,
and
began
to
believe
that
he
must
at
last
have
followed
Mr.
Raven
,
and
not
come
back
;
whereupon
I
speedily
grew
ashamed
of
my
flight
.
What
wondrous
facts
might
I
not
by
this
time
have
gathered
concerning
life
and
death
,
and
wide
regions
beyond
ordinary
perception
!
Assuredly
the
Ravens
were
good
people
,
and
a
night
in
their
house
would
nowise
have
hurt
me
!
They
were
doubtless
strange
,
but
it
was
faculty
in
which
the
one
was
peculiar
,
and
beauty
in
which
the
other
was
marvellous
!
And
I
had
not
believed
in
them
!
had
treated
them
as
unworthy
of
my
confidence
,
as
harbouring
a
design
against
me
!
The
more
I
thought
of
my
behaviour
to
them
,
the
more
disgusted
I
became
with
myself
.
Why
should
I
have
feared
such
dead
?
To
share
their
holy
rest
was
an
honour
of
which
I
had
proved
myself
unworthy
!
What
harm
could
that
sleeping
king
,
that
lady
with
the
wound
in
her
palm
,
have
done
me
?
I
fell
a-longing
after
the
sweet
and
stately
stillness
of
their
two
countenances
,
and
wept
.
Weeping
I
threw
myself
on
a
couch
,
and
suddenly
fell
asleep
.
As
suddenly
I
woke
,
feeling
as
if
some
one
had
called
me
.
The
house
was
still
as
an
empty
church
.
A
blackbird
was
singing
on
the
lawn
.
I
said
to
myself
,
"
I
will
go
and
tell
them
I
am
ashamed
,
and
will
do
whatever
they
would
have
me
do
!
"
I
rose
,
and
went
straight
up
the
stairs
to
the
garret
.
The
wooden
chamber
was
just
as
when
first
I
saw
it
,
the
mirror
dimly
reflecting
everything
before
it
.
It
was
nearly
noon
,
and
the
sun
would
be
a
little
higher
than
when
first
I
came
:
I
must
raise
the
hood
a
little
,
and
adjust
the
mirrors
accordingly
!
If
I
had
but
been
in
time
to
see
Mr.
Raven
do
it
!
I
pulled
the
chains
,
and
let
the
light
fall
on
the
first
mirror
.
I
turned
then
to
the
other
:
there
were
the
shapes
of
the
former
vision
—
distinguishable
indeed
,
but
tremulous
like
a
landscape
in
a
pool
ruffled
by
"
a
small
pipling
wind
!
"
I
touched
the
glass
;
it
was
impermeable
.
Suspecting
polarisation
as
the
thing
required
,
I
shifted
and
shifted
the
mirrors
,
changing
their
relation
,
until
at
last
,
in
a
great
degree
,
so
far
as
I
was
concerned
,
by
chance
,
things
came
right
between
them
,
and
I
saw
the
mountains
blue
and
steady
and
clear
.
I
stepped
forward
,
and
my
feet
were
among
the
heather
.
All
I
knew
of
the
way
to
the
cottage
was
that
we
had
gone
through
a
pine-
forest
.
I
passed
through
many
thickets
and
several
small
fir-woods
,
continually
fancying
afresh
that
I
recognised
something
of
the
country
;
but
I
had
come
upon
no
forest
,
and
now
the
sun
was
near
the
horizon
,
and
the
air
had
begun
to
grow
chill
with
the
coming
winter
,
when
,
to
my
delight
,
I
saw
a
little
black
object
coming
toward
me
:
it
was
indeed
the
raven
!
I
hastened
to
meet
him
.
"
I
beg
your
pardon
,
sir
,
for
my
rudeness
last
night
,
"
I
said
.
"
Will
you
take
me
with
you
now
?
I
heartily
confess
I
do
not
deserve
it
.
"
"
Ah
!
"
he
returned
,
and
looked
up
.
Then
,
after
a
brief
pause
,
"
My
wife
does
not
expect
you
to-night
,
"
he
said
.
"
She
regrets
that
we
at
all
encouraged
your
staying
last
week
.
"
"
Take
me
to
her
that
I
may
tell
her
how
sorry
I
am
,
"
I
begged
humbly
.
"
It
is
of
no
use
,
"
he
answered
.
"
Your
night
was
not
come
then
,
or
you
would
not
have
left
us
.
It
is
not
come
now
,
and
I
cannot
show
you
the
way
.
The
dead
were
rejoicing
under
their
daisies
—
they
all
lie
among
the
roots
of
the
flowers
of
heaven
—
at
the
thought
of
your
delight
when
the
winter
should
be
past
,
and
the
morning
with
its
birds
come
:
ere
you
left
them
,
they
shivered
in
their
beds
.
When
the
spring
of
the
universe
arrives
,
—
but
that
cannot
be
for
ages
yet
!
how
many
,
I
do
not
know
—
and
do
not
care
to
know
.
"
"
Tell
me
one
thing
,
I
beg
of
you
,
Mr.
Raven
:
is
my
father
with
you
?
Have
you
seen
him
since
he
left
the
world
?
"
"
Yes
;
he
is
with
us
,
fast
asleep
.
That
was
he
you
saw
with
his
arm
on
the
coverlet
,
his
hand
half
closed
.
"
"
Why
did
you
not
tell
me
?
That
I
should
have
been
so
near
him
,
and
not
know
!
"
"
And
turn
your
back
on
him
!
"
corrected
the
raven
.
"
I
would
have
lain
down
at
once
had
I
known
!
"
"
I
doubt
it
.
Had
you
been
ready
to
lie
down
,
you
would
have
known
him
!
—
Old
Sir
Up'ard
,
"
he
went
on
,
"
and
your
twice
great-grandfather
,
both
are
up
and
away
long
ago
.
Your
great-grandfather
has
been
with
us
for
many
a
year
;
I
think
he
will
soon
begin
to
stir
.
You
saw
him
last
night
,
though
of
course
you
did
not
know
him
.
"
"
Why
of
course
?
"
"
Because
he
is
so
much
nearer
waking
than
you
.
No
one
who
will
not
sleep
can
ever
wake
.
"
"
I
do
not
at
all
understand
you
!
"
"
You
turned
away
,
and
would
not
understand
!
"
I
held
my
peace
.
—
But
if
I
did
not
say
something
,
he
would
go
!
"
And
my
grandfather
—
is
he
also
with
you
?
"
I
asked
.
"
No
;
he
is
still
in
the
Evil
Wood
,
fighting
the
dead
.
"
"
Where
is
the
Evil
Wood
,
that
I
may
find
him
?
"
"
You
will
not
find
him
;
but
you
will
hardly
miss
the
wood
.
It
is
the
place
where
those
who
will
not
sleep
,
wake
up
at
night
,
to
kill
their
dead
and
bury
them
.
"
"
I
cannot
understand
you
!
"
"
Naturally
not
.
Neither
do
I
understand
you
;
I
can
read
neither
your
heart
nor
your
face
.
When
my
wife
and
I
do
not
understand
our
children
,
it
is
because
there
is
not
enough
of
them
to
be
understood
.
God
alone
can
understand
foolishness
.
"
"
Then
,
"
I
said
,
feeling
naked
and
very
worthless
,
"
will
you
be
so
good
as
show
me
the
nearest
way
home
?
There
are
more
ways
than
one
,
I
know
,
for
I
have
gone
by
two
already
.
"
"
There
are
indeed
many
ways
.
"
"
Tell
me
,
please
,
how
to
recognise
the
nearest
.
"
"
I
cannot
,
"
answered
the
raven
;
"
you
and
I
use
the
same
words
with
different
meanings
.
We
are
often
unable
to
tell
people
what
they
need
to
know
,
because
they
want
to
know
something
else
,
and
would
therefore
only
misunderstand
what
we
said
.
Home
is
ever
so
far
away
in
the
palm
of
your
hand
,
and
how
to
get
there
it
is
of
no
use
to
tell
you
.
But
you
will
get
there
;
you
must
get
there
;
you
have
to
get
there
.
Everybody
who
is
not
at
home
,
has
to
go
home
.
You
thought
you
were
at
home
where
I
found
you
:
if
that
had
been
your
home
,
you
could
not
have
left
it
.
Nobody
can
leave
home
.
And
nobody
ever
was
or
ever
will
be
at
home
without
having
gone
there
.
"
"
Enigma
treading
on
enigma
!
"
I
exclaimed
.
"
I
did
not
come
here
to
be
asked
riddles
.
"
"
No
;
but
you
came
,
and
found
the
riddles
waiting
for
you
!
Indeed
you
are
yourself
the
only
riddle
.
What
you
call
riddles
are
truths
,
and
seem
riddles
because
you
are
not
true
.
"
"
Worse
and
worse
!
"
I
cried
.
"
And
you
must
answer
the
riddles
!
"
he
continued
.
"
They
will
go
on
asking
themselves
until
you
understand
yourself
.
The
universe
is
a
riddle
trying
to
get
out
,
and
you
are
holding
your
door
hard
against
it
.
"
"
Will
you
not
in
pity
tell
me
what
I
am
to
do
—
where
I
must
go
?
"
"
How
should
I
tell
your
to-do
,
or
the
way
to
it
?
"
"
If
I
am
not
to
go
home
,
at
least
direct
me
to
some
of
my
kind
.
"
"
I
do
not
know
of
any
.
The
beings
most
like
you
are
in
that
direction
.
"
He
pointed
with
his
beak
.
I
could
see
nothing
but
the
setting
sun
,
which
blinded
me
.
"
Well
,
"
I
said
bitterly
,
"
I
cannot
help
feeling
hardly
treated
—
taken
from
my
home
,
abandoned
in
a
strange
world
,
and
refused
instruction
as
to
where
I
am
to
go
or
what
I
am
to
do
!
"
"
You
forget
,
"
said
the
raven
,
"
that
,
when
I
brought
you
and
you
declined
my
hospitality
,
you
reached
what
you
call
home
in
safety
:
now
you
are
come
of
yourself
!
Good
night
.
"
He
turned
and
walked
slowly
away
,
with
his
beak
toward
the
ground
.
I
stood
dazed
.
It
was
true
I
had
come
of
myself
,
but
had
I
not
come
with
intent
of
atonement
?
My
heart
was
sore
,
and
in
my
brain
was
neither
quest
nor
purpose
,
hope
nor
desire
.
I
gazed
after
the
raven
,
and
would
have
followed
him
,
but
felt
it
useless
.
All
at
once
he
pounced
on
a
spot
,
throwing
the
whole
weight
of
his
body
on
his
bill
,
and
for
some
moments
dug
vigorously
.
Then
with
a
flutter
of
his
wings
he
threw
back
his
head
,
and
something
shot
from
his
bill
,
cast
high
in
the
air
.
That
moment
the
sun
set
,
and
the
air
at
once
grew
very
dusk
,
but
the
something
opened
into
a
soft
radiance
,
and
came
pulsing
toward
me
like
a
fire-fly
,
but
with
a
much
larger
and
a
yellower
light
.
It
flew
over
my
head
.
I
turned
and
followed
it
.
Here
I
interrupt
my
narrative
to
remark
that
it
involves
a
constant
struggle
to
say
what
cannot
be
said
with
even
an
approach
to
precision
,
the
things
recorded
being
,
in
their
nature
and
in
that
of
the
creatures
concerned
in
them
,
so
inexpressibly
different
from
any
possible
events
of
this
economy
,
that
I
can
present
them
only
by
giving
,
in
the
forms
and
language
of
life
in
this
world
,
the
modes
in
which
they
affected
me
—
not
the
things
themselves
,
but
the
feelings
they
woke
in
me
.
Even
this
much
,
however
,
I
do
with
a
continuous
and
abiding
sense
of
failure
,
finding
it
impossible
to
present
more
than
one
phase
of
a
multitudinously
complicated
significance
,
or
one
concentric
sphere
of
a
graduated
embodiment
.
A
single
thing
would
sometimes
seem
to
be
and
mean
many
things
,
with
an
uncertain
identity
at
the
heart
of
them
,
which
kept
constantly
altering
their
look
.
I
am
indeed
often
driven
to
set
down
what
I
know
to
be
but
a
clumsy
and
doubtful
representation
of
the
mere
feeling
aimed
at
,
none
of
the
communicating
media
of
this
world
being
fit
to
convey
it
,
in
its
peculiar
strangeness
,
with
even
an
approach
to
clearness
or
certainty
.
Even
to
one
who
knew
the
region
better
than
myself
,
I
should
have
no
assurance
of
transmitting
the
reality
of
my
experience
in
it
.
While
without
a
doubt
,
for
instance
,
that
I
was
actually
regarding
a
scene
