In some old belfry of the stars they ring
The songs the dead men dream and cannot sing.
Even the bluest, grandest ocean of the world exists in my mind only as some deep, solemn hymning that tells the briefness of mortal existence. Sometimes, when I hear the wind blow in the night, my thoughts go flying out to the wide Pacific that heaves under the stars, and is, to me, the vast, wandering grave wherein ill-fated Soogy, the native child, sleeps.
THE END
- Transcriber’s Notes:
- Missing or obscured punctuation was silently corrected.
- Typographical errors were silently corrected.
- Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were made consistent only when a predominant form was found in this book.
- Music files have been provided for the music presented on pages 45 and 58, “The Marquesan Tapriata” and “Clack, click.” If your browser supports it, clicking on the MP3 links will play the piano music; clicking on the MIDI link may open a program that can play MIDI files; and clicking on the Music MXL link may download the MXL file to your computer. The music will probably not play on a Kindle or a device that uses ePub format.