Posts Tagged

Lord Dunsany

Fiction

by Lord Dunsany “WAY FOR us,” said the North Wind as he came down the sea on an errand of old Winter. And he saw before him the grey silent fog that lay along the tides. “Way for us,” said the North Wind, “O ineffectual fog, for I am Winter’s leader in his age-old war…
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Fiction

by Lord Dunsany I SAW A workman fall with his scaffolding right from the summit of some vast hotel. And as he came down I saw him holding a knife and trying to cut his name on the scaffolding. He had time to try and do this for he must have had nearly three hundred feet to fall. And I could think of nothing but his…
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Fiction

by Lord Dunsany WHEN travellers from London entered Arcady they lamented one to
another the death of Pan. And anon they saw him lying stiff and still. Horned Pan was still and the dew was on his fur; he had not the look
of a live animal. And then they said, “It is true that Pan is dead.” And, standing…
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Fiction

by Lord Dunsany IN THE Olympian courts Love laughed at Death, because he was unsightly, and because She couldn’t help it, and because he never did anything worth doing, and because She would. And Death hated being laughed at, and used to brood apart thinking only of his wrongs and of what he could…
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Fiction

by Lord Dunsany WHEN ONE HAS seen Spring’s blossom fall in London, and Summer appear and ripen and decay, as it does early in cities, and one is in London still, then, at some moment or another, the country places lift their flowery heads and call to one with an urgent, masterful clearness, upland…
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Fiction

by Lord Dunsany ALL ALONG the farmyard gables the swallows sat a-row, twittering
uneasily to one another, telling of many things, but thinking only of
Summer and the South, for Autumn was afoot and the North wind
waiting. And suddenly one day they were all quite gone. And everyone
spoke of the swallows…
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Fiction

by Lord Dunsany ALL WE WHO WRITE put me in mind of sailors hastily making rafts upon doomed ships. When we break up under the heavy years and go down into eternity with all that is ours our thoughts like small lost rafts float on awhile upon Oblivion’s sea. They will not carry much over those tides,…
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Fiction

by Lord Dunsany CHARON leaned forward and rowed. All things were one with his weariness. It was not with him a matter of years or of centuries, but of wide floods of time, and an old heaviness and a pain in the arms that had become for him part of the scheme that the gods had made and was of a piece with Eternity.…
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Fiction

by Lord Dunsany GOING DOWN Picadilly one day and nearing Grosvenor Place I saw, if my memory is not at fault, some workmen with their coats off — or so they seemed. They had pickaxes in their hands and wore corduroy trousers and that little leather band below the knee that goes by the astonishing name of “York-to-London.”…
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Fiction

by Lord Dunsany ONE’S SPIRIT goes further in dreams than it does by day. Wandering once by night from a factory city I came to the edge of Hell. The place was foul with cinders and cast-off things, and jagged, half-buried things with shapeless edges, and there was a huge angel with a hammer building…
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