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Updated: June 10, 2025
A moment's flash of lightning drags down a deeper gloom on my sight, and my heart gropes for the path to where the music of the night calls me. Light, oh where is the light! Kindle it with the burning fire of desire! It thunders and the wind rushes screaming through the void. The night is black as a black stone. Let not the hours pass by in the dark. Kindle the lamp of love with thy life.
There is a noise on the stairs. Pierre heeds it not. He gazes at his son, his sight darkens, and bewildering rumblings are heard. Pierre gropes about blindly, stumbling across Paul's unconscious form. The knocking grows louder, then the catch is forced, and five uniformed officials crowd through that cellar door. All seems calm at Northfield.
Whether one enters through the dark magnificence of the great portals of the Chatelet; whether one mounts the fortified stairway, passing into the Salle des Gardes, passing onward from dungeon to fortified bridge, to gain the abbatial residence; whether one leaves the vaulted splendor of oratories for aerial passage-ways, only to emerge beneath the majestic roof of the Cathedral that marvel of the early Norman, ending in the Gothic choir of the fifteenth century; or, as one penetrates into the gloom of the mighty dungeons where heroes and the brothers of kings, and saints and scientists have died their long death as one gropes through the black night of the Crypt, where a faint, mysterious glint of light falls aslant the mystical face of the Black Virgin; as one climbs to the light beneath the ogive arches of the Aumonerie, through the wide-lit aisles of the Salle des Chevaliers, past the slender Gothic columns of the Refectory, up at last to the crowning glory of all the glories of La Merveille, to the exquisitely beautiful colonnades of the open Cloister the impressions and emotions excited by these ecclesiastical and military masterpieces are ever the same, however many times one may pass them in review.
In great wrath, he turns about, and gropes his way cautiously through the lane in the narrow labyrinth of which the fugitive has disappeared, always cautiously, for there are precipitous descents in Hammond Avenue, and deep arched door-ways, from which a sudden onslaught might be dangerous. But he meets no interruption here.
One wanders and gropes in a slough of stock-jobbing, one sinks or rises in a storm of politics, and in either case it is as good to fall as to rise to mount a bubble on the crest of the wave, as to sink a stone to the bottom.
Ah, how well I understand his deprivation the perpetual night in which he dwelt O dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon, Irrecoverably dark, total eclipse Without all hope of day! In imagination I can hear Homer singing, as with unsteady, hesitating steps he gropes his way from camp to camp singing of life, of love, of war, of the splendid achievements of a noble race.
The Scolia grips a point of the Anoxia-grub's thorax; she curves her body underneath it and, while encircling the grub, gropes with the tip of her abdomen along the median line of the larva's neck.
He is told that this is not correct. He seems to agree, gropes about a little and writes, M A R Z L E G K. Krall repeats my name and asks which is the first letter to be altered. The stallion marks an R. "Good, but what letter will you put instead?" Mohammed strikes an N. "No, do be careful!" He strikes a T. "Very good, but in what place will the T come?"
My own mind, striving feebly to follow that greater and simpler mind, gropes about. I remember sharply the words of a writer who said that men make their own gods and realise that I myself saw something of the birth of such a god. For he was near to being a god then our McGregor. The thing he did rumbles in the minds of men yet. His long shadow will fall across men's thoughts for ages.
I see her adopt two methods. In the first, which is more usual than the other, the Bee is lying on her back; and the Philanthus, belly to belly with her, grips her with her six legs while snapping at her neck with her mandibles. The abdomen is now curved forward from behind, along the prostrate victim, feels with its tip, gropes about a little and ends by reaching the under part of the neck.
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