FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   61   62   63   64   65   66   67   68   69   70   71   72   73   74   75   >>  
urning, he brushed his tools aside, And laid across the table a wide Napkin. He put a glass and plate On either side, in duplicate. Over the lady's, excellent With loveliness, the laurels bent. In the centre the white-flaked pastry stood, And beside it the wine flask. Red as blood Was the wine which should bring the lustihood Of human life to his lady's veins. When all was ready, all which pertains To a simple meal was there, with eyes Lit by the joy of his great emprise, He reverently bade her come, And forsake for him her distant home. He put meat on her plate and filled her glass, And waited what should come to pass. The Shadow lay quietly on the wall. From the street outside came a watchman's call "A cloudy night. Rain beginning to fall." And still he waited. The clock's slow tick Knocked on the silence. Paul turned sick. He filled his own glass full of wine; From his pocket he took a paper. The twine Was knotted, and he searched a knife From his jumbled tools. The cord of life Snapped as he cut the little string. He knew that he must do the thing He feared. He shook powder into the wine, And holding it up so the candle's shine Sparked a ruby through its heart, He drank it. "Dear, never apart Again! You have said it was mine to do. It is done, and I am come to you!" Paul Jannes let the empty wine-glass fall, And held out his arms. The insentient wall Stared down at him with its cold, white glare Unstained! The Shadow was not there! Paul clutched and tore at his tightening throat. He felt the veins in his body bloat, And the hot blood run like fire and stones Along the sides of his cracking bones. But he laughed as he staggered towards the door, And he laughed aloud as he sank on the floor. The Coroner took the body away, And the watches were sold that Saturday. The Auctioneer said one could seldom buy Such watches, and the prices were high. The Forsaken Holy Mother of God, Merciful Mary. Hear me! I am very weary. I have come from a village miles away, all day I have been coming, and I ache for such far roaming. I cannot walk as light as I used, and my thoughts grow confused. I am heavier than I was. Mary Mother, you know the cause! Beautiful Holy Lady, take my shame away from me! Let this fear
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   61   62   63   64   65   66   67   68   69   70   71   72   73   74   75   >>  



Top keywords:
Mother
 

filled

 

laughed

 
waited
 

watches

 
Shadow
 

stones

 

cracking

 

Jannes

 

insentient


Stared

 
tightening
 

throat

 

clutched

 

staggered

 

Unstained

 

seldom

 

thoughts

 

roaming

 
coming

confused

 

heavier

 
Beautiful
 

Auctioneer

 

Saturday

 

Coroner

 

village

 
Merciful
 

prices

 
Forsaken

pertains

 

simple

 

lustihood

 

distant

 
forsake
 

emprise

 

reverently

 
Napkin
 

urning

 

brushed


duplicate

 
flaked
 

centre

 

pastry

 

excellent

 

loveliness

 

laurels

 

quietly

 

feared

 

string