5.8.10

the reeds and rushes and osiers

"Breathless and transfixed the Mole stopped rowing as the liquid run of that glad piping broke on him like a wave, caught him up, and possessed him utterly. He saw the tears on his comrade's cheeks, and bowed his head and understood. For a space they hung there, brushed by the purple loose-strife that fringed the bank; then the clear imperious summons that marched hand-in-hand with the intoxicating melody imposed its will on Mole, and mechanically he bent to his oars again. And the light grew steadily stronger, but no birds sang as they were wont to do at the approach of dawn; and but for the heavenly music all was marvellously still."

Kenneth Grahame


The Piper at the Gates of Dawn




2 comments:

  1. Inspiringly presented; I wouldn't touch this unless I were this ready to do so. On the other hand I can pass along a bit of fathering I've seen with it, which ought to be familiar enough to anyone or to his sibling, say, arriving later - "For Davey and may you enjoy this wonderful little book as much as your Dad did and still does. All my love... 25 Dec 1949"

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  2. don't be gone long, what with reading that new post you just left; i am waiting to hear about Dad and Davey...

    and, yes, the Turner is perfectly splendid.

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