Section 29 of John Keats' selected poems. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain, recording by Leonard Wilson. Lamea Part I Upon a time before the fairy broods drove nymph and satyr from the prosperous woods, before King Oberon's bright dyadim, scepter and mantel, clasped with dewy gem, frighted away the dryads and the fawns from rushes-green and bricks and cowslip lawns, the ever smitten hermes empty left his golden throne bent warm on amorous theft. From high Olympus had he stolen light on this side of Jove's clouds to escape the sight of his great summoner, and made retreat into a forest on the shores of Crete. For somewhere in that sacred island dwelt a nymph, to whom all hoof had setters knelt, at whose white feet the languid tritons poured pearls, while on land they withered and adored. Fast by the springs where she to bathe was want, and in those meeds where sometimes she might haunt were strewn rich gifts, unknown to any muse, though fancy's casket were unlocked to choose. Ah, what a world of love was at her feet! So Hermes thought, and a celestial heat burnt from his winged heels to either ear, that from a whiteness as the lily-clear blushed into roses mid his golden hair, fallen in jealous curls about his shoulders bare. From veil to veil from wood to wood he flew, breathing upon the flowers his passion new, and wound with many a river to its head, to find where this sweet nymph prepared her secret bed. In vain the sweet nymph might know where be found, and so he rested on the lonely ground, pensive and full of painful jealousies of the wood-gods and even the very trees. There as he stood he heard a mournful voice, such as once heard in gentle heart destroys all pain but pity. Thus the lone voice spank. When from this withered tomb shall I awake, when move in a sweet body fit for life and love and pleasure and the ruddy strife of hearts and lips, ah, miserable me! For God dove foot and glided silently round a bush and tree, soft brushing in his speed the taller grasses and full flowering weed, until he found a palpitating snake bright and Cirque Couchon in a dusky break. She was a Gordian shape of dazzling hue for millions spotted gold and green and blue, striped like a zebra, freckled like a pard, eyed like a peacock, and all crimson barred, and full of silver moons that as she breathed, dissolved or bright or shone, or entered their lusters with the gloomier tapestries. So rainbow-sided, touched with miseries, she seemed at once some penance lady elf, some demon's mistress, or the demon's self.  Her head was serpent, but ah, bittersweet!  And for her eyes what could such eyes do there but weep and weep that they were born so fair? As Prosser Pine still weeps for her Sicilian air. Her throat was serpent, but the words she spake came as through bubbling honey, for love's sake, and thus, while Hermes on his penions lay, like a stooped falcon ere he takes his prey. Fair Hermes crowned with feathers, fluttering light. I had a splendid dream of thee last night. I saw thee sitting on a throne of gold among the gods upon Olympus old, the only sad one. For thou didst not hear the soft, loot-fingered muses chanting clear, nor even Apollo when he sang alone, deaf to his throbbing throat's long, long melodious moan. I dreamt I saw thee robed in purple flakes, brick amorous through the clouds as morning bricks, and swiftly as a bright Phoebean dart, strike for the Cretan Isle. And hear thou art, two gentle Hermes, hast thou found the maid? Where at the star of Lethe not delayed his rosy eloquence, and thus inquired, thou smooth lit serpent surely high-inspired, thou beautyous wreath with melancholy eyes, possess whatever bliss thou canst devise, telling me only where my nymph is fled, where she doth breathe. Bright planet thou hast said, returned the snake, but sealed with oath's fair God. I swear, said Hermes, by my serpent rod, and by thine eyes, and by thy starry crown. Bright flew his earnest words, among the blossoms blown, then, thus again, the brilliance feminine. Too frail of heart for this lost nymph of thine, free as the air, invisibly she strays about these thornless wiles, her pleasant days she tastes unseen, unseen her nimble feet, leave traces in the grass and flowers sweet, from weary tendrils and bowed branches green, she plucks the fruit unseen, she bathes unseen. And by my power is her beauty veiled, to keep it unaffronted, unassailed by the long glances of unlovely eyes, of satyrs, fawns, and bleared silliness sighs. Still grew her immortality, for woe of all these lovers, and she grieved so. I took compassion on her, bad her steep her hair and weird syrups, that would keep her loveliness invisible, yet free to wander as she loves, in liberty. Thou shalt behold her, Hermes, thou alone, if thou wilt, as thou swearst, grant my boon. Then once again the charm to God began an oath, and through the serpents years it ran, warm, trembulous, devout, sultarian. Ravished she lifted her cercian head, blushed alive damask, and swift, blisping, said, I was a woman, let me have once more a woman's shape, and charming as before. I love a youth of Corinth. Oh, the bliss! Give me my woman's form, and place me where he is. Stoop, Hermes, let me breathe upon thy brow, and thou shalt see thy sweet nymph, even now. Where God on half-shut feathers sank serene, she breathed upon his eyes, and swift was seen of both the guarded nymph near smiling on the green. It was no dream. For, say a dream it was, real are the dreams of God's, and smoothly pass their pleasures in a long, immortal dream. One warm, flushed moment hovering it might seem dashed by the wooden nymph's beauty, so he burned. Then lighting on the printless birger turned to the swooned serpent, and with languid arm a delicate, put to proof the lithe cadoucian charm.  She like a moon in wane faded before him, cowered, nor could restrain her fearful sobs, self-folding like a flower that faints into itself at evening hour. But the God, fostering her chilled hand, she felt the warmth, her eyelids opened and bland, and like new flowers at morning song of bees, bloomed and gave up her honey to the lithe. Into the green, recessed woods they flew, nor grew they pale as mortal lovers do. Left to herself the serpent now began to change.  Her eyes and torture fixed, and anguished rear, hot, glazed and wide, with lidlashes all sear, flashed phosphor and sharp sparks, without one cooling tear. The colors all inflamed throughout her train, she writhed about, convulsed with scarlet pain.  So that in moments few she was undressed of all her sapphires, greens and amethyst and rubious argent, of all these bereft nothing but pain and ugliness were left. Still shone her crown, that vanished also she melted, and disappeared as suddenly, and in the air her new voice looting soft cried, Lysius, gentle Lysius! Born aloft with the bright mists about the mountain's whore, these words dissolved, creeds and forests heard no more. With her fled Lemia, now a Lady Bright, a full-born beauty new and exquisite. She fled into that valley they pass o'er, who go to Corinth, from Sancris shore, and rested at the foot of those wild hills, the rugged founts of the Perian rills, and of that other ridge whose barren back stretches with all its mist and cloudy rack, south-westward to Cleone. There she stood, about a young bird's flutter from a wood, fair on a sloping green of mossy tread, by a clear pool, wherein she passioned to see herself escaped from so sore ills, while her robes flaunted with the daffodils. Ah, happy Lysius! For she was a maid more beautiful than ever twisted braid, or sighed, or blushed, or unspring-floweredly spread a green curtain to the menstrual sea. A virgin pure slipped, yet in the law of love, deep learned to the red heart's core. Not one hour old, yet of sciential brain, to unperplexed bliss from its neighbor pain. Defined their pettish limits, and estranged their points of contact, and swift counter-change, intrigue with a specious chaos, and dispart its most ambiguous atoms with sure art. As though in Cupid's college she had spent sweet days a lovely graduate, still unshunt, and kept his rosy terms in idle languishment. Why this fair creature chose so fairly by the wayside to linger, we shall see. But first is fit to tell how she can muse and dream, when in the serpent prison-house of all she lists, strange or magnificent, however where she willed her spirit went. Whether to faint Lysium, or wear down through trest-lifting waves the naryad's fair, wind into Thethys' bower by many a pearly stare, or where God Bacchus strains his cups divine, stretched out at ease beneath the glutinous pine, or wherein Pluto's garden's palatine mossipers' columns gleam and fare a piazian line, and sometimes into city she would send her dream with feast and rioting to blend. And once, while among mortals dreaming thus, she saw the young Corinthian Lysius charioting foremost in the envious race like a young jove with calm, uneager face, and fell into a swooning love of him. Now, on the moth-time of that evening dim, he would return that way as well she knew to Corinth from the shore. For freshly blew the eastern soft wind, and his galley now grated the keystones with her brazen prow in port sincreas from Eugenia Isle, fresh anchored, with he had been a while to sacrifice to Jove, whose temple there waits with high marble doors for blood and incense rare. Jove heard his vows, and bettered his desire, for by some freakful chance he made retire from his companions, and set forth to walk, perhaps grown weary of their Corinth talk. Over the solitary hills he fared, thoughtless at first, but ere Eve's star appeared, his fantasy was lost, where reason fades, in the calmed twilight that platonic shades. Eve held him coming, nearer, more near, close to her passing, in indifference, drear. His silent sandals swept the mossy green, so neighboured to him, and yet so unseen she stood. He passed.  Lysius, look back, and be some pity-shome. He did, not with cold wonder, fearingly, but orpheus-like, at an uridice, for so delicious were the words she sung, it seemed he had loved them a whole summer long, and soon his eyes had drunk her beauty up, leaving no drop in the bewildering cup, and still the cup was full, while he, afraid lest she should vanish ere his slip had paid due adoration, thus began to adore. Her soft look, growing coy, she saw his chain so sure. Leave the alone, look back, ah, gotta see whether my eyes can ever turn from thee, for pity do not this sad heart be lie, even as thou vanishest so I shall die. Stay, though a dyad of the rivers stay, to thy far wishes will thy streams obey. Stay, though the greenest woods be thy domain, alone they can drink up the morning rain. Though a descended pleod will not one of thine harmonious sisters keep in tune thy spheres, and as thy silver proxy shine, so sweetly to these ravaged ears of mine came thy sweet greeting, that if thou shouldst fade, thy memory will waste me to a shade, for pity do not melt.  Thou canst not ask me with thee here to roam over these hills and veils, where no joy is, empty of immortality and bliss. Thou art a scholar, Lysius, and must know that finer spirits cannot breathe below in human climes and live. Alas, poor youth, what taste of purer air has thou to soothe my essence? What serenar palaces, where I may all my many senses please, and by mysterious slights a hundred thirsts appease? It cannot be, adieu. So said she rose, tiptoe, with white arms spread. He, sick to lose the amorous promise of her lone complaint, swooned, murmuring of love and pale with pain. The cruel lady, without any show of sorrow, for her tender favourites woe, but rather, if her eyes could brighter be, with brighter eyes and slower thanity, put her new lips to his, and gave afresh the life she had so tangled in her mesh. And as he, from one trance, was wickening into another, she began to sing. Happy in beauty, life and love, and everything, a song of love too sweet for earthly liars, while like held breath the stars drew in their panting fires, and then she whispered in such trembling tone as those who, safe together, met alone, for the first time through many anguished days, use other speech than looks, meeting him raise his drooping head and clear his soul of doubt, for that she was a woman, and without any more subtle fluid in her veins than throbbing blood, and that the self-same pains inhabited her frail strong heart as his. And next she wondered how his eyes could miss her face so long in Corinth, where, she said, she dwelt but half retired, and there had led days happy as the gold coin could invent, without the aid of love, yet incontent, till she saw him, as once she passed him by, or against a column he lent thoughtfully, that Venus-temple porch, mid-basket-heaped of amorous herbs and flowers, newly reaped, late on that eve, as it was the night before the Adonian feast, whereof she saw no more but wept alone those days, for why should she adore? Lysius from death awoke into a maze to see her still, and singing so sweet blaze, then from a maze into delight he fell, to hear her whisper woman's lore so well, and every word she spake enticed him on to unperplexed delight and pleasure known. Let the mad poets say what air they please of the sweets of fairies, parries, goddesses. There is not such a treat among them all, haunters of cavern, lake, and waterfall, as a real woman, lineal indeed, from Pyrrhus pebbles, or old Adam's seed. Thus Gentilemia judged, and judged aright, that Lysius could not love in half a fright, so threw the goddess off, and won his heart more pleasantly, by playing woman's part, with no more awe than water beauty gave, that while it smote, still guaranteed to save. Lysius to all made eloquent reply, marrying to every word a twin-born sigh, and, last, pointing to Corinth, asked her sweet if it was too far that night for her soft feet. The way was short, for Lamea's eagerness made by a spell the triple league decrease, to a few paces, not at all surmised by blinded Lysius, so in her comprised. They passed the city gates, he knew not how, so noiseless, and he never thought to know. As men talk in a dream, so Corinth all throughout her palaces imperial, and all her populous streets and temples lewd, muttered like tempest in the distance brewed, to the widespread at night above her towers. Men, women, rich and poor, in the cool hours shuffle their sandals, or the pavement white, companioned or alone, while many a light flared here and there, from wealthy festivals, and through their moving shadows on the walls, or found them clustered in the cornest shade of some arched temple door, or dusky colonnade. Muffling his face, of greeting friends in fear, her fingers he pressed hard as one came near with curled gray beard, sharp eyes, and smooth bald crown, slow-stepped and roamed in philosophic gown. Lysius shrank closer as they met, and passed into his mantle, adding wings to haste, while hurried Lamea trembled. Ah, said he, why do you shudder love so loofily? Why does your tender palm dissolve in dew? I'm weary, said fair Lamea. Tell me, who is that old man? I cannot bring to mind his features. Lysius, wherefore did you blind yourself from his quick eyes? Lysius replied, to his apollonious sage, my trusty guide and good instructor. But tonight he seems the ghost of folly haunting my sweet dreams. While yet he spake they had arrived before a pillared porch with lofty portal door, where hung a silver lamp whose phosphor glow reflected in the slab at depths below, mild as a star in water. For so new and so unsullied was the marble hue, so through the crystal-polish liquid fine ran the dark rains that none but feet divine could air have touched there. Sounds aeolian breathe from the hinges as the ample span of the wide doors disclosed a place unknown, some time to any, but those two alone, and a few Persian mutes, who that same year were seen about the markets. None knew where they could inhabit. The most curious were foiled who watched to trace them to their house, and but the flitter-winged verse must tell, for truth's sake, what woe afterwards befell, would humor many a heart to leave them thus shut from the busy world of more incredulous. End of Part 1 of Lamea by John Keats, recording by Leonard Wilson of Springfield, Ohio. Section 30 of John Keats' Selected Poems. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain, recording by Leonard Wilson. Lamea Part 2 Love in a hut with water and a crust is, love for divas, cinders, ashes, dust. Love in a palace is perhaps at last more grievous torment than a hermit's fast. That is a doubtful tale in fairyland, hard for the non-elect to understand. Had Lysius lived to hand his story down, he might have given the moral a fresh frown, or clenched it quite. But too short was their bliss to breed distrust and hate that make the soft voice hiss. Besides their nightly, with terrific glare, love, jealous groan of so complete a pair, hovered and buzzed his wings with fearful roar above the lentil of their chamber-door, and down the passage cast a glow upon the floor. For all this came a ruin. Side by side they were enthroned in the eventide upon a couch, near to a curtaining whose airy texture from a golden string floated into the room, and let appear unveiled the summer heaven, blue and clear betwixt two marble shafts. There they reposed where use had made it sweet, with eyelids closed, saving a tithe which love still opened he kept, that they might see each other while they almost slept. When from the sloped side of a suburb hill deafening the swallow's twitter came a thrill of trumpets. Lyceus started. The sounds fled, but left a thought abusing in his head. For the first time since first he harbored in that purple-linen palace of sweet sin, his spirit passed beyond its golden borne, into the noisy world almost foresworn. The lady, ever-watchful, penetrant, saw this with pain, so arguing a watt of something more, more than her empyrey of joys, and she began to moan and sigh, because he mused beyond her, knowing well that but a moment's thought his passions passing bell. Why do you sigh, fair creature, whispered he? Why do you think, returned she tenderly, you have deserted me? Where am I now? Not in your heart while care weighs on your brow. No, no, you have dismissed me. And I go from your breast houseless. Ay, it must be so. He answered, bending to her open eyes where he was mirrored, small in paradise. Why, silver-planet, both of eve and morn, why will you plead yourself so sad forelorn, while I am striving how to fill my heart with deeper crimson and a double smart? How to entangle, trample up and snare your soul in mine, and labyrinth you there like the hens sent in an unbudded rose? Ay, a sweet kiss. You see your mighty woes. My thoughts shall I unveil them? Listen, then. What mortal hath a prize that other men may be confounded and abashed with all, but let's it sometimes pace a broad majestical and triumph, as in thee I should rejoice amid the hoarse alarm of Corinth's voice. Let my foes choke, and my friends shout afar, while through the thronged streets your bridal car wheels round its dazzling spokes. The lady's cheek trembled. She nothing said. But pale and meek arose and knelt before him, wept a rain of sorrows at his words, at last with pain beseeching him, the while his hand she wrung, to change his purpose. He thereot was stung perverse with stronger fancy to reclaim her wild and timid nature to his aim. Besides for all his love and self-despite against his better self, he took delight luxurious in her sorrows soft and new. His passion, cruel-grown, took on a hue fierce and sanguineous, as was possible in one whose brow had no dark veins to swell. Fine was the mitigated fury like Apollo's presence when in act to strike the serpent. Ha! the serpent! Certes, she was none. She burnt. She loved the tyranny, and all subdued, consented to the hour when to the bridal he should lead his paramour. Whispering in midnight silence said the youth, Sure, some sweet name thou hast, though by my truth I have not asked it, ever thinking thee not mortal, but of heavenly progeny, as still I do. Hast any mortal name fit appellation for this dazzling frame, or friends or kensfolk on the citied earth to shower our marriage-feast and nuptial mirth? I have no friends, said Lamia. No, not one. My presence in wide Corinth hardly known. My parents' bones are in their dusty urns, supple-curd, where no kindled incense burns, seeing all their luckless race are dead save me, and I neglect the holy rite for thee. Even as you list, invite your many guests, but if, as now it seems, your vision rests with any pleasure on me, do not bid old Apollonius from him keep me hid. Lucia's perplexed at words so blind and blank made close inquiry from whose touch she shrank feigning asleep, and he to the dull shade of deep sleep in a moment was betrayed. It was the custom, then, to bring away the bride from home at blushing shut of day, veiled in a chariot, heralded along by strewn flowers, torches, and a merry song with other pageants, but this fair and known had not a friend. So being left alone, Lyceus was gone to summon all his kin, and knowing surely she could never win his foolish heart from its mad pompousness, she set herself high-thoughted how to dress the misery in fit magnificence. She did so, but is doubtful how and whence came, and who were her subtle servitors? About the halls and two and from the doors there was a noise of wings, till in short space the glowing banquet room shone with wide arch and grace, a haunting music so perhaps and lone, supportrous of the fairy-roof, made moaned throughout, as fearful the whole char might fade. Fresh carved cedar, mimicking a glade of palm and plantain, met from either side, high in the midst in honor of the bride, two palms and then two plantains, and so on from either side their stems branched one to one, all down the isled place, and beneath all there ran a stream of laps straight on, from wall to wall. So canopied lay an untasted feast teeming with odors, lamia regal dressed, silently paced about, and as she went in pale, contented sort of discontent, missioned her viewless servants to enrich the fretted splendor of each nook and niche. Between the tree-stems, marbled plain at first, came jasper panels, then anon their burst-forth creeping imagery of slighter trees, and with a larger wove in small intricacies, approving all she faded at self-will, and shut the chamber up, close, hushed, and still, complete and ready for the revel's rude, when dreadful guests would come to spoil her solitude. The day appeared, and all the gossip routed, oh senseless listious madman, wherefore flout the silent blessing fate warm cloistered ours, and show to common eyes these secret bowers. The herd approached, each guest with busy brain, arriving at the portal, gazed amain, and entered marveling, for they knew the street, remembered it from childhood, all complete, without a gap, yet near before had seen that royal porch, that high-built fair demean. So when they hurried all, mazed, curious, and keen, save one, who looked thereon with eyes severe, and with calm-planted steps walked in austere. It was apollonious, something too he laughed, as though some naughty problem that had daft his patient thought, and now began to thaw, and solve, and melt. Was just as he foresaw. He met within the murmurous vestibule his young disciple. "'Tis no common rule, listious,' said he, for uninvited guest to force himself upon you, and infest with an unbidden presence the bright throng of younger friends. Yet must I do this wrong, and you forgive me?' Lysius blushed, and led the old man through the inner doors broadspread, with reconciling words and courteous mean, turning into sweet milk the softest spleen.  Fifty wreaths of smoke from fifty censors their light voyage took to the high roof, still mimicked as they rose along the mirrored walls by twin clouds odorous. Twelve-sfeared tables by silk seats in speared, high as the level of a man's breast-reared on liberty's paws, upheld a heavy gold of cups and goblets, and the store of thrice-toed of Ciri's horn. And in huge vessels wine came from the gloomy ton with merry shine. Thus loaded with a feast the table stood, each shrining in the midst the image of a god. When in an atti chamber every guest had felt a cold full sponge to pleasure pressed by ministering slaves upon his hands and feet, and fragrant oils with ceremony-meat poured on his hair, they all moved to the feast in white robes, and themselves in order placed around the silken couches, wondering whence all this mighty cost and blaze of wealth could spring. Soft went the music, the soft air along, while fluent Greek avowed undersong kept up among the guests, discoursing low at first, for scarcely was the wine at flow. But when the happy vintage touched their brains, louder they talked, and louder came the strains of powerful instruments. The gorgeous dyes, the space, the splendor of the draperies, the roof of awful richness, nectarous cheer, beautiful slaves, and lamea's self appear. Now when the wine has done its rosy deed, and every soul from human trammels freed, no more so strange. For merry wine's sweet wine will make elysian shades not too fair. Too divine! Soon was God back us at meridian height. Fleshed were their cheeks and bright eyes, double bright. Garlands of every green and every scent from veils deflowered, or forest trees branch-brent, and baskets of bright, oshered gold were brought high as the handles heaped to suit the thought of every guest, that each, as he did please, might fancy fit his brows silk-pillowed at his ease. What wreath for lamea? What for lyceus? What for the sage, old Apollonius? Upon her aching forehead be there hung the leaves of willow and of adder's tongue, and for the youth quick let us strip for him the thersis that his watching eyes may swim into forgetfulness. And for the sage let speargrass and the spiteful thistle wage war on his temples. Do not all charms fly at the mere touch of cold philosophy? There was an awful rainbow once in heaven. We know her woof, her texture, she is given in the dull catalogue of common things. Philosophy will clip an angel's wings, conquer all mysteries by rule and line, empty the haunted air and nomad mine, unweave a rainbow, as it air while made the tender-personed lamea melt into a shade. By her glad lyceus sitting in chief place, scarce saw in all the room another face, till, checking his love trance, a cup he took, full-brimmed, an opposite sent forth a look, crossed the broad table, to beseech a glance from his old teacher's wrinkled countenance, and pledge him. The bald-head philosopher had fixed his eye without a twinkle or stir, full on the alarmed beauty of the bride, brow-beating her fair form, and troubling her sweet pride. Lyceus then pressed her hand with devout touch, as pale it lay upon the rosy couch. Was icy, and the cold ran through his veins. Then sun it grew hot, and all the pains of an unnatural heat shot to his heart. Lamea, what means this? Wherefore dost thou start? Wherefore dost thou that man? Poor Lamea answered not. He gazed into her eyes, and not a jot own day the lovelorn piteous appeal.  There was no recognition in those orbs. Lamea he cried, and no soft tone reply, the many heard, and the loud revelry grew hush. The stately music no more breathes, the myrtles sickened in a thousand wreaths. By faint degrees, voice, lute, and pleasure ceased. A deadly silence, step by step increased, until it seemed a horrid presence there, and not a man that felt a terror in his hair. Lamea he shrieked, and nothing but the shriek with a sad echo did the silence break. Begone foul dream, he cried, gazing again in the bride's face, where now no azure vein wandered on fair space and temples. No soft bloom misted the cheek, no passion to illumine the deep, recessed vision. All was blight. Lamea, no longer fair, there sat a deadly white.  Turn them aside, wretch, or the righteous ban of all the gods whose dreadful images here represent their shadowy presences. They pierced them on the sun with a thorn of painful blindness, leaving thee forlorn in trembling dotage to the feeblest fright of conscience, for their long offended might, for all thine happiest proud-heart sophistries, unlawful magic, and enticing lies.  Corinthians, see, my sweet bride withers at their potency. Fool said they surfaced in an undertone, gruff with contempt, which a death-nighing moan from Lyceus answered. As heart struck and lost, he sank supine beside the aching ghost. Fool, fool, repeated he, while his eyes still relented not, nor moved. From every eel of life have I preserved thee to this day, and shall I see thee made a serpent's prey? Then Lamea breathed to death-breath. The sophist sigh, like a sharp spear, went through her utterly, keen, cruel, persient, stinging. She, as well as her weak hand, could any meaning tell, motioned him to be silent. Vainly so. He looked and looked again a level, no. A serpent, and echoed he. No sooner said, than with a frightful scream, she vanished. And Lyceus' arms were empty of delight, as were his limbs of life from that same night. On the high couch he lay. His friends came round, supported him. No pulse or breath they found. And in its marriage robe, the heavy body wound. End of Part 2 of Lamea by John Keats. Recording by Leonard Wilson of Springfield, Ohio. Section 31 of John Keats' Selected Poems. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Leonard Wilson. To Byron. Byron, how sweetly sad thy melody, attuning still the soul to tenderness, as if soft pity with unusual stress had touched her plaintive lute, and thou, being by, had caught the tones, nor suffered them to die. Or shadowing sorrow doth not make thee less delightful, thou thy griefs dust dress with a bright halo shining beamily, as when a cloud, the golden moon doth veil, its sides are tinged with a resplendent glow, through the dark robe oft amber rays prevail, and like fair veins in sable marble flow. Still warble dying swan, still tell the tale, the enchanting tale, the tale of pleasing woe. End of To Byron by John Keats. Recording by Leonard Wilson of Springfield, Ohio. Section 32 of John Keats' Selected Poems. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Leonard Wilson. A Song About Myself.  He would not stop at home, he could not quiet be. He took in his knapsack a book full of vowels, and a shirt with some towels, a slight cap for nightcap, a hairbrush, comb ditto, new stockings for old ones with splitto. This knapsack, tight at spack, he riveted close, and followed his nose to the north to the north, and followed his nose to the north.  He took an ink stand in his hand, and a pen, biggest ten in the other, and away in a pother he ran to the mountains and fountains and ghosties and posties, and witches and ditches, and wrote in his coat when the weather was cool, fear of gout, and without when the weather was warm, ah, the charm, when we choose to follow one's nose to the north to the north, to follow one's nose to the north.  He kept little fishes in washing-tubs three, in spite of the might of the maid, nor afraid of his granny-good. He often would hurly-burly get up early, and go by hook or crook to the brook, and bring home Miller's thumb-tittle-bat, not over a fat, minnows small as the snall of a glove, not above the size of a nice little baby's little fingers. Oh, he made, twas his trade, a fish, a pretty kettle, a kettle, a kettle of fish, a pretty kettle, a kettle.  He ran away to Scotland, the people, for to see. There he found that the ground was as hard, that a yard was as long, that a song was as merry, that a cherry was as red, that lead was as weighty, that forescore was as 80, that a door was as wooden, as in England. So he stood in his shoes, and he wondered, he wondered. He stood in his shoes, and he wondered. End of A Song About Myself by John Keats. Also, End of John Keats Selected Poems. Selected and recorded by Leonard Wilson of Springfield, Ohio.


I've got some happy mail to share. So I got a couple of different bits of happy mail over the holiday weekend. For those of you who don't know, in the United States this last Thursday, today is Monday, the 30th of November, when I'm filming this. I don't know when you'll see it, but that's when I'm filming. So last Thursday was our holiday of Thanksgiving. And so it's been a long weekend and I spent most of the time with family and ate too much probably, especially cake. Yeah. Anyway, over the weekend I got some happy mail. So yay, yay me, I love happy mail. The first one I got was from my friend, Letha Richardson over in Crazy Island Family. And she had some extra tags from the tag swap that we did over there. And she thought she would send them to me. So I have to say, first she sent me this envelope that had some really cute, look at that washi tape. Don't you love that? So, you know, I've been saving the envelopes because sometime for the new year, I hope to take a bunch of these envelopes and make a happy mail journal with the envelopes and then fill them with some of your little notes and things that you've sent me. So I've been saving everything, which I didn't used to do.  Now I'm like kicking myself that I did that anyway. She sent me some really cool tags. I love this one. There's some kind of inventory or shipping tag and it's got some carbon paper on it. And it looks like our, you know, big regular tags, but then it's got this sheet with some carbon paper and it's a really cool tag. I don't know what I'm gonna do with it, but I'm gonna do something cool with it. And I just threw it on the floor. So anyway, it's perforated and I really like this tag. And then she sent me this one that she made with a nice note on the back. So that I'll be saving with the envelopes so that I can use an in said journal. I also have a bunch of tags that you guys sent me. Some of them have notes and some of them don't. So they may end up in the same journal. And then she sent me some other tags. Let me see. She made this one and this one and this one. I like this one. It just says happy. Happy who doesn't like to be happy. And then she sent me some colored tags and this cute little green. This looks like the old price tags I used to use when I was in the gift shop. And she sent me some like this. Well, she sent me these. These are cool tags. They're like, it's like a vellum tag. I love that. Thanks, Letha. Love those. I don't have anything like any of those. All right. And then I got a big happy mail thing slash Christmas present from my dear friend Cindy Utter. And she sent me a lot of stuff. Wow. She sent me these cute napkins. Do you love? Be naughty, safe, stand to the trip. I love that. Okay. She sent me these really cool pens. This one, isn't that pretty? And this one is cool. This is from Lowe's, the hardware store. And it's a permanent fine point pen. It looks like a Sharpie. So I'm anxious to try that one out in some of my journaling and stuff. That's cool. Makes me wonder if they have other colors. I bet they only have black, but it's a cool pen. I wonder how much it is. I have a Lowe's near my house. I might have to go over and see. She sent me these two little empty match boxes. These are cute. Look at this tag she sent. Be merry. She sent me this adorable owl clothespin. Is he not the cutest thing? And I already like had him clipped to something on my desk and then I realized I needed to film a happy mail video. So then I unclipped him. But now I'm gonna reclip him over here because he's just the cutest thing. There's some journaling cards here. What do you call them? These are from Flow. I think these are from the magazine Flow, but they look like Project Life Cards. This says, this too shall pass, which I love. Celebrate the little things. Being somewhere is more important than getting somewhere. Love that. She sent me some really great Minion stickers. I love Minions, they're so funny. And I love this one. Oops, this one here. That's Minion Bob, King Bob. Those of you who don't know my husband's name is Bob, so anyway, I think it's cute. She also sent me these Minion, these are like file labels. Could probably use them in one of my planners. They're so cute.  Cute. Daniel Tarante stamps. And let's see. These are some other like random like clip art and things. So love that. Doily. And these little papers, and I'm not sure what these are from. They kind of remind me of some kind of like fancy parchment paper or like something you'd buy a little cake from at the bakery. There's a stack of those. A nice note from her. Here's a cute notepad. It's a magnetic notepad. And it's funny, it says remember. And she probably got this one for me because I'm always forgetting things. So yeah, remember. I'll still probably forget, but at least I have a notepad now to try to remind me. There's this cute little tea bag in a little sleeve.  And she sold lots of them, especially at Christmas time. It's just a little fabric sleeve. It's decorated with a piece of card stocking of O on the front. It's got a little tea bag inside. And it says tomorrow when it's a quarter to three, while you are alone and thinking of me, please treat yourself to a cup of tea. Isn't that cute? They're making cute little gift like a teacher gift or something. And then she sent me this Christmas ornament wrapped up in some pretty painting paper. Look at that snowflake. So that's gonna go in my tree this year. So thank you, Cindy, so, so much. I appreciate it so very much. And Lisa too, thank you so much for the happy mail. And I hope you all have a great holiday. If I don't know if I'm gonna do any more vlogs before Christmas or not, I'm assuming I will because it's a little less than a month away, but it's about a month away. But you never know what could happen. And I hope you guys all have a great holiday. I hope you had a great Thanksgiving. I hope you didn't eat too much turkey. I know I ate too much, but anyway. And don't forget to play and have some fun and do something nice for yourself because you deserve it. All right, I'll see you later. I gotta go back to video editing. All right, bye.


Section 8 of Under the Sunset by Bram Stoker. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The wondrous child, far away from the edge of a great creek, that stretched inland from the endless sea, there lay a peaceful village. Here the husbandmen led a happy, prosperous life. They rose early so that in the cool grey morn they heard the lark, all invisible in the height of the dawn, singing the morning hymn that he never forgets. As sunset came stealing on, they returned to their homes, glad of the rest that nightfall brought to them. In the autumn, when the harvesting was to be done, they worked late, as they were able to do, for at that time the kind son and his wife the moon have a compact that they will help those who work at the harvest. So the sun stays up a little longer, and the moon gets out of her bed, in the horizon a little earlier, and thus there is always light to work by. The red, broad, full-faced moon that looks down on the husbandmen at work is called the harvest moon. The Lord of the Manor of this peaceful village was a very good, kind man that helped the poor always. At mealtime the door of his mansion stood open, and all who were hungry could enter if they chose, and take seats at the table and be welcome guests. This Lord of the Manor had three children, Siebold and May, and one little baby boy just come home, who had no name as yet. Siebold had just reached his eighth birthday, and May was within two months of her six. They were very fond of each other as brother and sister should be, and had all their plays together. May thought that Siebold was very big and strong, and whatever he wished to do, she always agreed to. Siebold loved finding things and exploring, and at different times the two children had been over all the domain of their father. They had certain secret haunts that nobody knew of except themselves. Some of these were very queer, delightful places. One was in the centre of a hollow oak tree, where so many squirrels lived that the branches were quite like the streets of a town with their going to and fro. Another place was the top of a rock, which was only reached by a narrow path between high bushes of ivy. Here there was a sort of great chair made in the rock, which just held the two, and here they often brought their lunch and sat half the day looking out over the treetops, to where, far away in the distance, the white edge of the horizon lay on the glittering sea.  There was also another place, which was their favourite of all. It was under a great weeping willow. This was a mighty tree, many hundreds of years old, which towered aloft above the other trees which dotted the sword. The long branches fell downward so thickly that even in winter, when the leaves had fallen and the branches were bare, one could hardly see into the hollow that lay within. When the new spring clothes came home, the whole tree from its high top, even to the mossy ground from which it rose, was a mass of solid green, and it was difficult to get within even if one knew the way. In one place one of the trailing branches had a long time ago been broken in a great storm, which had laid low many forest trees. But the branches which hung next to this sent forth new green shoots to fill the empty space, and so the opening was covered with thin twigs instead of strong branches. In summer the leaves covered all with a mass of green, but those who knew the opening could push the twigs aside and so enter into the bower. It was a most beautiful bower, no matter how strong the sun glared without, it was within cool and pleasant. From the ground even to the top, till the very roof where the dark branches meeting made a black mass, all was a delicate green, for the light without came through the leaves softly and gently. Seabold and May thought that so the sea must look to the mermaids, who sing and comb their long hair with golden combs down in the cool depths of the ocean.  Hyacinths with their many bells clustered on one stalk like a big family party, great sunflowers whose drooping faces shone like children of the parent sun himself. There were also great poppies with spreading careless leaves, thick juicy stalks and grand scarlet flowers which rise and droop just as they please, and look so free and careless and independent. Both Seabold and May loved these poppies and went every day to look at them, in the beds in the mossy sward from which the great willow rose. They grew to an enormous size, so high that when Seabold and May stood hand in hand beside the bed, the great poppies towered over them till Seabold, standing on tiptoe, could not reach the scarlet flowers. One day after breakfast Seabold and May took their lunch with them and went out to spend the day together wandering about among the woods, for it was a holiday with them. A little tiny boy brother had arrived in the house and everybody was busy getting things for him. The children had just seen him for an instant. Hand in hand Seabold and May went round all their favourite spots. They looked at the cave in the oak tree and said, How do you do to all the squirrels that lived in the tree, and told them of the new baby that had come home? Then they went to the rock and sat together in the seat and looked away over the sea. There they sat for a while in the hot sunlight and talked together with the dear little baby brother that they had seen. They wondered where he came from and they made up a plan that they would look and look till they found a baby too.  Then they wondered how they would be able to get away over the sea and they planned that someday Seabold's boat would be made bigger and they would get into it and sail away over the sea and search for another little baby all for themselves. After a while they got tired of sitting in the hot sun, so they left the place and hand in hand wandered on till they came to the level swore, where the great willow tree rose and where the beds of flowers made the air seem full of colors and perfume. Hand in hand they walked on, looking at the butterflies and the bees and the birds and the beautiful flowers. In one bed they found a new flower had come out. Seabold knew it and told May it was a tiger lily. She was afraid to go near it till he told her it could not hurt her, as it was only a flower. As they went on Seabold picked some flowers from every bed and gave them to his sister. When they were going away from the tiger lily he pulled the flower and as May was afraid to carry it he took it himself. At last they came to the great bed of poppies. The flowers looked so bright and cool for all their flaming color and so careless that May and Seabold both together thought that they would like to take a lot with them into the willow bower, for they were going to eat their lunch there and they wished the place to be as gay and pretty as possible. But first they went back to the oak tree to gather a lot of leaves, for Seabold suggested that they would make the new baby brother the king of the feast and that they would make for him a crown of oak. As he would not be there himself they would put the crown where they could see it well. When they got to the oak tree May called out, oh look Seabold, look, look! Seabold looked and saw that on nearly every branch were a whole lot of squirrels sitting two and two with their bushy tails over their backs eating nuts as hard as ever they could. When the squirrels saw them they were not frightened for the children had never done them any harm.  Seabold and May began to laugh but they did not like to disturb them so they gathered as many oak leaves as they wanted and went back to the poppy bed. Now Seabold dear said May we must get lots of poppies for the dear bar is very very fond of them. How do you know? said Seabold. Because he ought to be she answered you and I are and he is our brother so of course he is. So Seabold pulled a lot of the poppies and some he took with many of the cool green leaves attached till they had each an armful of them then they gathered up all the other flowers and entered the willow bower to eat their lunch. Seabold went to the spring that rose in the garden and that ran through it down to the sea there he filled his cap with water and brought it back as steadily as he could so as not to spill much and return to the bower. May held open the leafy branches as he came and when he passed in she let them fall again. As the leafy curtain hung all round them the two children were alone in the willow bower. Then they set to work to deck their leafy tent with the flowers. They twisted them round the hanging branches and made a wreath which they put around the trunk of the tree. Everywhere they put the poppies as high as they could reach and then Seabold held up May while she stuck the tiger lily in a cleft in the tree trunk above all the other flowers. Then the children sat down to their lunch. They were very tired and very hungry and they enjoyed the rest and the food very much. There was only one thing which they wanted and that was the new little baby brother so that they might make him the king of the feast. When lunch was finished they felt very tired so they lay down together with their heads on each other's shoulders and their arms twined and there they went to sleep with the scarlet poppies nodding all round them. After a time they were not asleep. It did not seem to be any later in the day but to be the early morning. Neither of them felt the least sleepy or tired. On the contrary they both wanted to go on a longer expedition than ever. Come down to the creek said Seabold and let us get out my boat. May arose and they opened the leafy door and went out. They went down to the creek and there they found Seabold's boat with all its white sails set. Let us get in said Seabold. Why? asked May. Because then we can have a sail he answered. But it will not hold us. It is too small said May who was rather afraid to go sailing but did not like to say so. Let us try said her brother. He took hold of the cord that tied the boat to the bank and drew it in. The line seemed very long and Seabold appeared to be pulling it in for a great while. However the boat came in at last. As it drew nearer it got bigger and bigger till when it touched the bank they saw that it was just large enough to hold them both. Come let us get in said Seabold. Somehow May did not feel afraid now. She got into the boat and found that in it there were silken cushions of the colour of the poppy flowers. Then Seabold got in and pulled away the rope that tied the boat to shore. He sat in the stern and held the tiller in his hand. May sat on a cushion in the bottom of the boat and held on to the sides. The white sails swelled out with a gentle breeze and they began to move away from the shore. The tiny waves rippled from the bow of the boat. May heard the lap lap lap as they touched the prow and then fell away. The sun shone very brightly. The water was as blue as the sky and so clear that the children could see down into its steps where the fishes were darting about. There too the plants and trees that grow under the water were opening and closing their branches and the leaves were moving about as those of land trees do when the wind is blowing. For a little while the boat went straight away from land till they lost sight of the tall willow tree which rose above the others. Then it seemed to come near to the shore again and moved on always so close that the children could see all that was there very plainly. The shore was very varied and each moment showed something new and beautiful. Now it was a jutting rock all covered with trailing plants whose flowers almost touched the water. Now it was a beach where the white sand glittered and glistened in the light and where the waves made a pleasant humming sound as they ran up the shore and down again as if playing at touch with themselves. Now dark trees with dense foliage overhung the water but through their gloom shone bright patches far away as the sun streamed down through some opening into the glade. Again there were places where grasses green as emeralds sloped right down to the water's edge and where the cow slips and butter cups that grew on the marge as they leaned over almost kissed the little waves that rose to meet them. Then there were places where great trees of lilac made the air sweet for far around with the breath of their clusters of pink and white blossom and where the labyrinems seemed to shower endless streams of gold from the wealth of flowers which hung from their twisted green branches. There were also great palm trees with their wide leaves making a cool shadow on the earth beneath. Great coconut trees up huge stems, troops of monkeys, troops of monkeys kept running to gather the coconuts which they pulled and threw down below. Allows with great stalks laden with flowers of purple and gold for this was the hundredth year when alone the aloe blooms. There were poppies as large as trees and lilies whose flowers were bigger than tents. The children liked all these places but presently they came to a spot where there was a patch of emerald grass shaded over with giant trees. Around rose or hung or clustered every flower that grows. Tall sugar canes sprang from the edge of a tiny stream which ran over a bed of bright stones like jewels. Palms reared their lofty heads and plants with great leaves rose and made shadows even in the shade. Close by was a crystal spring which bubbled into the tiny stream once the sugar canes rose. When they saw this place both the children cried out, Oh how beautiful! Let us stop here. The boat seemed to understand their wishes for without the helm even being touched it turned and drifted in gently to the shore. Seabold got out and lifted May to land. He intended to moor the boat but the moment May got out all the sails folded themselves of their own accord. The anchor jumped overboard and before it was possible to do anything the boat was anchored close to the shore. Seabold and May took each other's hands and they went round the place together looking at everything. Presently May said in a whisper, Oh Seabold! This place is so nice! I wonder if there is any parsley here? Why do you want parsley? he asked. Because if there was a nice bed of parsley we might be able to find a baby. And Oh Seabold! I do so want a baby. Very well then, let us look, said her brother. There seems to be every kind of plant here and if there is every kind of plant you know there must be parsley for Seabold was very logical. So the two children went all round the grassy dales searching and presently sure enough under the spreading leaves of a citron they found a great bed of parsley, bigger parsley than they had ever seen before. Seabold was quite pleased with it and said this is something like parsley do you know May? It always puzzled me how a baby who is so much bigger than the parsley can be hidden by it and it must be hidden in it for I often go out to look in the bed at home and I never can find one. Although a nurse always finds one whenever she looks but she does not look nearly often enough. I know if I was as lucky as she is I would be always looking. May found the longing to find a baby grow so strong upon her that she said again Oh Seabold! I do so long for a baby. I hope we will find one. As she spoke there was a queer kind of sound heard. A sort of very very soft laugh like a smile set to music. May was surprised and for a moment did not think of doing anything.  May knelt down beside him and lifted him up and began to rock him and sing hush by baby while Seabold looked on complacently. However after a while he got impatient and said look here you know I found that baby he belongs to me oh please said May I heard him first he is mine he is mine said Seabold he is mine said May and both began to get a little angry. Suddenly they heard a low groan a sort of sound like as if a tune had a toothache. Both children looked down in alarm and saw that the poor baby was dead. They were both horror struck and began to cry and both asked the other to forgive them and promised that never never again they would be angry. When they had done this the child opened its eyes looked at them gravely and said now never quarrel or be angry if you get angry again either of you I shall be dead I am buried too before you can say trap sticks indeed Bar said May I shall never never be angry again at least I shall try not to be said Seabold I assure you sir that under no provocation resulting from whatever concatenation of circumstances shall I be guilty of the malfaisance of anger how pretty he speaks said May and the baby nodded his head to him familiarly as much as to say all right old man we understand each other then for a while they were all quite quiet presently the baby turned its blue eyes up to May and said please little mother will you sing to me what would you like Bar said May oh any little trifle something pathetic he answered any particular style asked May no thank you anything that comes handy I prefer something simple some little elementary trifle or instance any little tune beginning with a chromatic scale in consecutive fifths and octaves pianissimo ralentando accelerando crescendo up to an inharmonic change on the dominant of the diminished flat ninth oh please bar said may very humbly I do not know anything about that yet I'm only in scales and if you please I do not know what it is all about look and you will see said the child and he took a piece of stick and wrote some music on the sand I do not know yet said May just then a small yellowish brown animal appeared in the glade chasing a rat when it came opposite them it suddenly went off like the sound of a pistol do you know now asked the child no dear bar but it does not matter she answered very well dear said the child kissing her anything you please only let it come straight from your loving little heart and he kissed her again then may sang something very sweet and pretty so sweet and pretty that it made her cry and seabold also and the baby she did not know the words and she did not know the tune and she had only a vague sort of idea what it was all about but it was very very pretty all the time she was singing she kept nursing the baby and he put his dear little fat arms around her neck and loved her very much when she was done singing the child said schlap schlap schlap schlap what does he mean she asked seabold in distress for she saw that the baby wanted something just then a beautiful cow put its head over the bushes and said moo the beautiful child clapped his hands so did may who said oh i know now he wants to be fed the cow walked in without being invited and seabold said i suppose may i had better milk him please do dear said may and she began cuddling the baby again and kissing and nursing him and telling him that he would soon be fed now whilst she was thus engaged she was sitting with her back to seabold but the baby was looking on at the milking operation with his blue eyes dancing with glee all at once he began to laugh so much that may looked round to see what he was laughing at there was seabold trying to milk the cow by pulling its tail the cow did not seem to mind him but went on grazing che lady said seabold the cow began to frisk about oh i say said seabold do hurry up now and give us some milk the bar wants some the cow answered him the dear bar must not want for ought may thought it very strange that the cow could talk but a seabold did not seem to think it's strange she held her tongue seabold began to argue with the cow but really now mr cow if he must not want for anything why do you make him want the cow answered don't blame me it is your own fault try some other way and it began to laugh as hard as it could its laugh was very funny very loud at first but gradually getting more and more like the child's laugh till may could not tell one from the other then the cow stopped laughing but the child went on what are you laughing at bar may asked for she did not remember to know anything about milking any more than seabold she thought this very funny for she knew that she had often seen the cows milked at home the baby spoke that is not the way to milk a cow then seabold began to work the cow's tail up and down like the handle of a pump but the baby laughed more than ever all at once without knowing how it came to pass she felt herself pouring milk out of a watering pot all over the baby who lay on the ground with seabold holding down its head the baby was crowing and laughing like mad and when the watering pot was all emptied he said thank you both so much i never enjoyed dinner so much in my life this is a very queer dear bar said may in a whisper very said seabold whilst they were talking there came a dreadful sound among the trees very very far away at first but getting nearer and nearer every moment it was like cats who were trying to imitate thunder the noise came booming through the trees meow boom may was very much frightened so also was seabold but he would not say so he felt that he had to protect his little sister and the baby so he got between them and the place the sound came from may hug the child close and said to him do not fear dear bar we will not let it touch you what is it said the baby i do not know bar she answered i wish i did there it comes now for just at that moment a great angry tiger bounded over the tops of the highest trees and stood glaring at them out of its great green flaming eyes may he looked on this terrible thing with her eyes distended with terror but still she classed the baby closer and closer she kept looking at the tiger and saw that he was eyeing not her nor seabold but the baby this made her more frightened than ever and she clasped him closer as she looked however she saw that the tiger's eyes got less and less angry every moment till at last they were as gentle and tame as those of her own favorite tabby then the tiger began to purr the purring was like a cat's purr but so loud that it sounded like drums however she did not mind it for although loud it seemed as if it meant to be gentle and caressing then the tiger came close and crouched before the wondrous child and licked his little fat hands with its great rough red tongue but very gently the baby laughed and patted the tiger's great nose and pulled the long bristling whiskers and said gee gee the tiger went on behaving most funnily it lay down on its back and rolled over and over and then stood up and purred louder than ever its great tail rose straight into the air with the top moving about and knocking to and fro a great bunch of grapes that hung down from the tree above it seemed overwhelmed with joy and came and crouched again before the child and purred round him in the greatest state of happiness finally it lay down smiling and purring and watching over the child as if on guard presently there came from the distance another terrible sound it was like a great giant hissing and was louder than steam a more multitudinous than a flock of geese there was also the sound of breaking branches of the crushing of the undergrowth and there was a terrible dragging noise like nothing else they had ever heard again seabold stood out between the sound and may who once more held the baby to protect him from harm the tiger rose and arched his back like an angry cat and got ready to spring on whatsoever should come then there appeared over the tops of the trees the head of an enormous serpent with small eyes that shone like sparks of fire and two great open jaws these jaws were so big that it really seemed as if the beast's whole head opened in two and between them appeared a great forked tongue which seemed to spit venom behind this monstrous head appeared enormous coils of the serpent's body moving endlessly the tiger growled as if about to spring but suddenly the serpent lowered its head submissively it was gazing at the wondrous child and may looking also saw that the wee baby was pointing down as if commanding the serpent to his feet then the tiger with a low growl and afterwards a contented per went back to its place to watch and guard the great serpent came gently and coiled itself in the glade and it also seemed as if keeping watch and guard over the wondrous child again there came another terrible sound this time it was in the air great wings seemed to flap louder than thunder and from far away the air was darkened by a mighty bird of pray that made a shadow over the land with its outspread wings as the bird of pray swooped down the tiger rose again and arched his back as though about to spring to meet it and the serpent raised his mighty coils and opened his great jaws as if about to strike but when the bird saw the child it too became less fierce and hung in mid-air with its head drooped as though making submission presently the serpent coiled itself and layers before the tiger went back to watch and guard and the bird of prayer lit in the glade and watched and guarded too May and seabold began to look with wonder on the beautiful boy before whom these monsters made a bear sense but they could not see anything strange again there was another terrible sound this time out to see a rushing and swishing as if some giant thing was lashing in the water looking round the children saw two monsters coming these were a shark and a crocodile they rose out of the sea and came up on land the shark was jumping along with its tail beating about and its triple rows of great teeth grinding together the crocodile was crawling along with its big feet and short bent legs and its terrible mouth was opening and shutting snapping its big teeth together when these two got near the tiger and the serpent and the bird of prey all rose to guard the child but when the newcomers saw the baby they too made submission and they also kept watch and guard the crocodile crawling on the beach and the shark moving up and down in the water just like centuries again May and seabold looked at the beautiful child and wondered once more there was a terrible noise more awful than had yet been the earth seemed to shake and a deep rumbling sound came from far below then then a little way off a mountain suddenly rose its top opened and forth burst with a sound louder than a storm fire and smoke great volumes of black vapor rose and hung a dark cloud overhead red hot stones of enormous size were shot aloft and fell again into the crater and were lost down the sides of the mountain rolled torrents of burning lava and springs of fiercely boiling water burst forth on every side seabold and may were more frightened than ever and may clasp the dear baby closer to her breast the thunder of the burning mountain grew louder and louder the fiery lava poured thick and fast and from the crater rose the head of a fiery dragon with eyes like burning coals and teeth like tongues of flame then the tiger and the serpent and the bird of prey and the crocodile and the shark all prepared to defend the wondrous child but when the fiery dragon saw the boy it too was quelled and it crawled humbly out from the burning crater then the fiery mountain sunk again into the earth the burning lava disappeared and the dragon remained with the others to watch and guard seabold and may were more amazed than ever and looked at the baby more curiously still suddenly may said to her brother seabold i want to whisper you something seabold bent his head and she whispered very softly into his ear i think the bar is an angel seabold looked at him in awe as he answered i think so too dear what are we to do i do not know said may i hope you will not be angry with us for calling him bar i hope not said seabold may thought for a moment and then her face looked up with a glad smile as she said he will not be angry seabold you know we entertained him unawares quite true said seabold whilst they were talking all sorts of animals and birds and fishes were coming into the glade walking arm in arm as well as they could for none of them had arms a lion and a lamb came first and these two bowed to the child and then went and lay down together then came a fox and a goose and then a hawk and a pigeon and then a wolf and another lamb then a dog and a cat and then another cat and a mouse and then another fox and a stalk and a hare and a tortoise and a pike and a trout and a sparrow and a worm and many many others till all the glade was full of living things all at peace with one another they all sat round the glade in pairs and they all looked at the wondrous child may whispered again to seabold i think if he is an angel we ought to be very respectful to him seabold nodded showing that he agreed with her so she cuddled up the baby closer and said please mr bar do not they all look nice and pretty sitting around like that the beautiful child smiled sweetly as he answered beautiful and sweet they look may said again i wish they would always be like that and never fight nor disagree at all dear bar oh i beg your pardon i mean mr bar the child asked her why do you beg my pardon because i called you bar instead of mr bar the boy asked again why should you call me mr bar may did not like to say because you are an angel as she would have liked to have said so she cuddled the child closer and whispered into his pink little ear you know the child put his little arms around her neck and kissed her and said very low and very sweetly words that all her life long she never forgot i do know be always loving and sweet dear child and even the angels will know your thoughts and will listen to your words may felt very happy she looked at seabold who bent over and kissed her and called her sweet little sister and all the animals in pairs and all the terrible ones on guard said all together like a cheer right then they stopped and made all together each of the noises in turn that any of them used to show they were happy first they all purred and then they all crowed and then cackled and squeaked and flapped their wings and wagged their tails oh how pretty said may again look dear bar she was just going to say mr when the child held up its finger so she only said bar the child smiled and said right you must call me only bar again all the animals said together like a shout right you must say only bar and then they all went through the same ways of showing their joy as before may said to the child and somehow her voice seemed very very loud although she did not mean it but only to whisper oh dear bar i do so wish they would always continue happy and at peace like this is there no way of doing it the beautiful child opened its mouth to speak and all the living things put up their claws or their wings or their fins to their ears to listen attentively he spake and his words seemed full of sound but very soft like the echo of distant thunder coming over far waters on the wings of music no dear children and no ye all that list there shall be peace on earth between all living things when the children of men are for one hour in perfect love and harmony with each other strive oh strive each and all of you that it may be so as he spoke there came over a solemn hush and they were very still then the wondrous child seemed to float out of may's arms and to move down toward the sea all the living things instantly hurried to make a great double line between which he passed may and seabold followed him hand in hand he waited for them at the marge of the sea and then kissed them both whilst he was kissing them the boat came closer to shore the anchor climbed on board the white sails ran aloft and a fresh breeze began to blow towards home the wondrous child moved on to the prowl and they arrested seabold and may went on board and took their old place and after kissing their hands to all the living things who were by this time dancing altogether in the glade they kept their eyes fixed on the beautiful boy as they sat hand in hand the boat moved along gently but very swiftly the shore with its many beautiful places seemed gliding into a dim mist as they swept along presently they saw their own creek and the great willow towering over all the other trees on shore the boat came to land the wondrous child floating in the air moved onward towards the willow bower seabold and may followed he entered the bower they came close after as the leafy curtain fell behind them the figure of the wondrous child got dimmer and dimmer till at last looking at them lovingly and waving his tiny hands as if blessing them he seemed to melt away into the air seabold and may sat for a long time hand in hand thinking then both feeling sleepy they put their arms round each other and lay down to rest in this position they again fell asleep with the poppies all around them end of section eight recording by Sandra Cullum end of Under the Sunset by Bram Stoker