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

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Yet there are times

When in the wind she speaks.

When stars and flowers

Tell me of her eyes.

When rivers chant her name.

If ever signs were sure,

I know she waits;

If not, what means this sweetness in the wind,

The singing in the rain, the love in flowers?

What mean these whispers in the air,

This calling from the hills and from the sea?

These tendernesses of the Day and Night?

Unless she waits!

What in the world was this absurd sweetness running in his veins?

He laughed a little. A slight flush, too, came and went its way. The tip of the pencil snapped as he pressed too heavily on it. He had drawn it through the doggerel with impatience, for he suddenly realised that he had told a deep, deep secret to the paper. It had stammered its way out before he was aware of it. This was youth and boyhood strong upon him, the moods of Crayfield that he had set long ago on one side—deliberately. The mood that wrote the Song of the Blue Eyes had returned, waking after a sleep of a quarter of a century.