Читать книгу The Complete Works of Algernon Blackwood. Novels, Short Stories, Horror Classics, Occult & Supernatural Tales, Plays онлайн

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'Please show it to us—now,' they cried.

'I'll try,' he said, after a slight hesitation, 'but—er—it's only a rhyme, you see'; and then began to murmur very low for fear of waking Mother: he almost sang it to them. The flock of tiny voices whispered it to his blood. He merely uttered what he heard:—

Starlight

Runs along my mind

And rolls into a ball of golden silk—

A little skein

Of tangled glory;

And when I want to get it out again

To weave the pattern of a verse or story,

It must unwind.

It then gets knotted, looped, and all up-jumbled,

And long before I get it straight again, unwumbled,

To make my verse or story,

The interfering sun has risen

And burst with passion through my silky prison

To melt it down in dew,

Like so much spider-gossamer or fairy-cotton.

Don't you?

I call it rotten!

A hushed silence followed. Eyes sought the fire. No one spoke for several minutes. There was a faint laughter, quickly over, but containing sighs. Only Jinny stared straight into her father's face, expecting more, though prepared at any stage to explode with unfeigned admiration.