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Benson, Arthur Christopher, 1862-1925

"The Altar Fire"

I found myself near a chain of old fish-ponds, with
thorn-thickets all about them; and here the old house stood up
against a pure evening sky, rusty red below, melting into a pure
green above. My heart went out in wonder at the thought of the
unknown lives lived in this place, the past joys, the forgotten
sorrows. What did it mean for me, the incredible and caressing
beauty of the scene? Not only did it not comfort me, but it seemed
to darken the gloom of my own unhappy mind. Suddenly, as with a
surge of agony, my misery flowed in upon me. I clutched the rail
where I stood, and bowed my head down in utter wretchedness. There
came upon me, as with a sort of ghastly hopefulness, the temptation
to leave it all, to put my case back into God's hands. Perhaps it
was to this that I was moving? There might be a new life waiting
for me, but it could not well be as intolerable as this. Perhaps
nothing but silence and unconsciousness awaited me, a sleep
unstirred by any dream. Even Maud, I thought, in her sorrow, would
understand. How long I stood there I do not know, but the air
darkened about me and the mist rose in long veils about the pasture
with a deadly chill. But then there came back a sort of grim
courage into my mind, that not so could it be ended.


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