free ebooks
 Home Biographies & Memoirs > Historical  
The Lame Priest

If the air had not been December's, I should have said there was balm in it. Balm there was, to me, in the sight of the road before me. The first snow of winter had been falling for an hour or more; the barren hill was white with it. What wind there was was behind me, and I stopped to look my fill.

The long slope stretched up till it met the sky, the softly rounded white of it melting into the gray clouds -- the dove-brown clouds -- that touched the summit, brooding, infinitely gentle. From my feet led the track, sheer white, where old infrequent wheels had marked two channels for the snow to lie; in the middle a clear filmy brown, -- not the shadow of a color, but the light of one; and the gray and white and brown of it all was veiled and strange with the blue-

Read More

 Additional Info
 
 No. 100
 Posted on 7 June, 2006
 
 
 
Bookmark This Page
Facebook MySpace Twitter Digg stumbleupon friendfeed Delicious

Share
Email
Google

Link to us from your website or blog by using the code below in your html
   
@2008 ebooklobby privacy policy email: info [at] goaheadweb.co.uk