It was the voice of the flowers on the West wind, the lovable, the old, the lazy West wind, blowing ceaselessly, blowing sleepily, going Greecewards.  
"The woods have gone away, they have fallen and left us; men love us no longer, we are lonely by moonlight. Great engines rush over the beautiful fields, their ways lie hard and terrible up and down the land.
 
"The cancrous cities spread over the grass, they clatter in their lairs continually, they glitter about us blemishing the night.
 
"The woods are gone, O Pan, the woods, the woods. And thou art far, O Pan, and far away."
 

Join or Log In! You need to log in to continue reading

Create a new account   I have a account already

	Create an New Account
Email:  (User Name)
Password:	Letters and numbers only. 6-20 characters.
Retype Password:
Screen Name:	Letters and numbers only. 6-50 Characters.
Confirmation Code:	(Please type in the characters in the green image.)

	Login into Your Account
Email:
Password:
	Remember me on this computer.

(Left Keyword <-) Previous: DEATH AND THE ORANGE Back Next: TIME AND THE TRADESMAN (Right Keyword:->)