(11)her old silly song. Her message to a world now beginning tobreak into the voluntary and irrepressible loveliness of springwas transmitted by the lurch of her body and the leer of hersmile and in them no less than in the bleat of lamb and the budof cowslip were the broken syllables of a revelation moreconfused but more profound (could one have read it) than anyaccorded to solitary watchers, pacing the beach at midnight, andreceiving as they stirred the pool, revelations of an extra-ordinary kind.V

For to them, as the evenings lengthened came the strangestimaginations, the most authentic beckonings, in the sunset, onthe moonlit evenings when it seemed as if they were haled fromtheir flesh and that flesh were turned to atoms which drovebefore the wind, and they must needs fly with arms stretched andhair blowing to the wild shining west or the flashing stars, orthe tumbling waves. For it was as if the waves broke in them;the stars flashed in their hearts; and the trees' strength, thecliffs' nobility, the clouds' majesty were so brought togetherpurposely to assemble the scattered parts of the vision within.

For a week perhaps towards the end of May this unity per-sisted,   The spring without a leaf to toss, bare and bright,like a virgin fierce in her chastity, scornful in her purity,was laid out on fields wide eyed and watchful, entirely carelessof what was done or thought by the beholders. Nevertheless in
Resize Images  

Select Pane

Berg Materials

View Pane