Towards democracy, стр. 92

78 Towards Dem ocracy

scanty fires just lighted three columns of smoke, perfectly straight, also ascend.

That is all. The smoke creeps upward and is lost continually in the blue; his yoice who prays creeps upward and is lost.

Around spreads, silent, with loose stones and a few weeds, the desert ; above, the sky.

The Sky!

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I arise and pass.

After eighty years, having been once like the rest a little _ vacant-eyed child in his mother’s arms; haying thence lived and | toiled and enjoyed much hither and thither over the earth; Now being very weary, and day after day and week after week growing more and more weary ; all all old interests refusing, for death longing—the old lawyer lies down to sleep.

It is but for an hour or two. Death comes not yet. The leaves still tremble in the evening wind, the clouds in solemn transformation float on, voices of children call in the garden below.

The last few miles, the old familiar country—the wellknown roads and garden-lands—yet no glance thereon.

The strange immortal instinct pressing—the veiled figure always in front, beckoning.

Now at this time the creatures of the forest to their lairs retiring await the approach of night; the great mountains stand in awe amid the hush of their own waters ; twilight fades and the stars once more appear.

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