The education of Uncle Paul

by Algernon Blackwood

I know the passion of the night,

Full of all days unborn,—

Full of the yearning of the light

For one undying Morn.

Smoke caught the tip of the pencil with a swift and accurate stroke, and the ‘M’ of ‘Morn’ was provided with an irregular tail Paul had not intended. Very quickly, however, without further interruption, he wrote on to the end.

Above the embers of my heart,

Waiting the Living Breath;

The sparks fly listlessly apart—

Then circle to their death.

Dead sparks that gathered ne’er to flame,