dust-quenched

Updated: May 1, 2025

Escape from death! ... alas, there is no escape, . . 'tis evident we all must die, . . die, and with dust-quenched eyes unlearn our knowledge of the sun, the stars, the marvels of the universe, for us no more shall the flowers bloom or the sweet birds sing; the poem of the world will write itself anew in every roseate flushing of the dawn, but we, we who have joyed therein, we who have sung the praises of the light, the harmonies of wind and sea, the tunefulness of woods and fields, we whose ambitious thoughts have soared archangel-like through unseen empyreans of space, there to drink in a honeyed hope of Heaven, we shall be but DEAD! ... mute, cold, and stirless as deep, undug stones, . . dead! ... Ah God, thou Utmost Cruelty!" and in a sudden access of grief and passion he raised one hand and shook it aloft with a menacing gesture "Would I might look upon Thee face to face, and rebuke Thee for Thy merciless injustice!"

Marie Corelli - Ardath