Spese di spedizione gratuite da 25€ - Per i soci Coop o possessori di tessera fedeltà Librerie.coop gratuite a partire da 19€
Of ﬂesh that held his soul, which longed to soar Unto some half-remembered world he had known of yore When in the spirit,-for thus his thoughts would tend, In this strange world of spirits all his dreams would end. At home his mother waited, her heart grown chill For fear the boy had happen'd on some ill; Then when he came she sought to charm away The fancies which beset him night and day. For when he slept he murmur'd in his dreams Of books and stars, of ﬂowers and murmuring streams, Or, stranger still, of god-like spirits hovering near To whisper mystic meanings in his ear. Then half affrighted she would creep to bed, A few short hours to rest her weary head. About this time a stranger came to dwell A stone's throw from the wood our Eric loved so well. A splendid white-bair'd man, of noble mien His furrowed brow denoted thought, his eyes were keen And dark — yet mild and sweet his face. His garments hung in folds of wondrous grace. He seemed some holy hermit, monk, or friar, For on his breast there shone a cross of mystic fire. Once wandering through the wood the boy he met; Questioned him often, and meeting again, questioned et, Margelling how such a mind had sprung from lowly birth Enquiring now of Heaven, and now of earth What made the stars to shine — and things man should not know Of other beings who rule for weal or woe The passions of mankind, who guide man's fate, Yet may in turn be roused to love or hate. 'twas thus he taught the boy of mystic lore, Revealing what Nature half revealed. Before.