Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - In the old Tower - III
<< prev. page << föreg. sida << >> nästa sida >> next page >>
Below is the raw OCR text
from the above scanned image.
Do you see an error? Proofread the page now!
Här nedan syns maskintolkade texten från faksimilbilden ovan.
Ser du något fel? Korrekturläs sidan nu!
This page has been proofread at least once.
(diff)
(history)
Denna sida har korrekturlästs minst en gång.
(skillnad)
(historik)
yesterday, and just as the sun went down a little
warbler came and sang to me under the window,
shall I ever hear him again?”
“Where there are angels there are birds.”
“I wish a friendly voice could read the
‘Phaedo’ to me once more.”
“The voice was mortal, the words are
immortal, you will hear them again.”
“Shall I ever hear again the sounds of Mozart’s
Requiem, my beloved Schubert and the titan
chords of Beethoven?”
“It was only an echo from Heaven you
overheard.”
“I am ready. Strike friend!”
“I am not going to strike. I am going to
put you to sleep.”
“Shall I awake?”
No answer came to my question.
“Shall I dream?”
“Yes, it is all a dream.”
* * *
“Who are you, beautiful boy? Are you
Hypnos, the Angel of Sleep?”
He stood there close by my side with flower
crowned locks and dreamheavy forehead,
beautiful as the Genius of Love.
“I am his brother, born of the same Mother
Night. Thanatos is my name. I am the Angel
of Death. It is thy life that is flickering out in
the light of the torch I tread under my foot.”
* * *
I dreamt I saw an old man staggering wearily
along on his lonely road. Now and then he
looked upwards as if in search of someone to
<< prev. page << föreg. sida << >> nästa sida >> next page >>
