Excerpt from The Gold Tree
Nature, that first autumn, must have struck some happy and subtle equilibrium of sun and wind and rain. Perhaps never since that great tree's third progenitor was a sapling and the mortar was fresh on the college walls, had just that unheralded miracle been achieved by just that impalpable balance of heat and atmospheric pressure, of moisture and light. I did not speculate about this I had no inclination to dissect the beautiful thing I saw. But every morning I woke with the marvel gently waving before my eyes, a tree of pure and stainless gold; and every afternoon, when all around the walks and lawns were tranced in lucid stillness, I sat on my sill and gazed at the transfigured multitudes of leaves.
At first the tree's garment was thick and profuse. It lay, one would say, in mounded waves and beaches, still slightly stained with remembrances of the late summer, the dry dark greens and soiled dusty browns. Now and then leaves fell. Each day there were more of them scat.
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This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.
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Excerpt from The Gold Tree
Nature, that first autumn, must have struck some happy and subtle equilibrium of sun and wind and rain. Perhaps never since that great tree's third progenitor was a sapling and the mortar was fresh on the college walls, had just that unheralded miracle been achieved by just that impalpable balance of heat and atmospheric pressure, of moisture and light. I did not speculate about this I had no inclination to dissect the beautiful thing I saw. But every morning I woke with the marvel gently waving before my eyes, a tree of pure and stainless gold; and every afternoon, when all around the walks and lawns were tranced in lucid stillness, I sat on my sill and gazed at the transfigured multitudes of leaves.
At first the tree's garment was thick and profuse. It lay, one would say, in mounded waves and beaches, still slightly stained with remembrances of the late summer, the dry dark greens and soiled dusty browns. Now and then leaves fell. Each day there were more of them scat.
About the Publisher
Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com
This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.
Excerpt from The Gold Tree
All the years I was there I had a room with Gothic windows, very high in the great old building. When the leaves were out there were no roofs or walls within sight, and the room was so high that, seated at my window, I was almost on a level with the uppermost large branches of a vast spreading elm, which stood right over against me and dominated all the other trees in the thickly-wooded gardens. When one was by the farther wall of the room the moving green caves and promontories of the great tree filled the whole space of the window; but leaning on the sill one saw it framed in sky with copses and walks stretching away behind it.
I spent many hours watching that tree when, as often happened, I was feeling too indolent for other occupations. In bleak winter twilights, when its extended branches rose in dark austerity amid the cold and wet, or toughly struggled with a fierce wind, I saw it a self-reliant Titan, a vegetable Prometheus, a dumb and vigilant spirit without hope and without fear as the tempests swelled and the menacing darkness came round. When spring thrust away winter, and the clustered crocuses, yellow, purple, and mauve, shone in the grass about its foot, faint delicate veils spread over its branches, veils of buds which presently broke forth into leaves. In summer it was a great palace for birds.
About the Publisher
Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com
This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.
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PAP. Zustand: New. New Book. Shipped from UK. Established seller since 2000. Artikel-Nr. LW-9781331373827
Anzahl: 15 verfügbar