“Into my loneliness comes -
The sound of a flute in dim groves that haunt the uttermost hills.
Even from the brave river they reach to the edge of the wilderness.
And I behold Pan.”
— Prologue of the Unborn, Liber VII
The sound of a flute in dim groves that haunt the uttermost hills.
Even from the brave river they reach to the edge of the wilderness.
And I behold Pan.”
— Prologue of the Unborn, Liber VII
No comments:
Post a Comment