Портрет художника в юности

           Heturnedlandwardandrantowardstheshoreand,runninguptheslopingbeach,recklessofthesharpshingle,foundasandynookamidaringoftuftedsandknollsandlaydowntherethatthepeaceandsilenceoftheeveningmightstilltheriotofhisblood.

           Hefeltabovehimthevastindifferentdomeandthecalmprocessesoftheheavenlybodies;andtheearthbeneathhim,theearththathadbornehim,hadtakenhimtoherbreast.

           Heclosedhiseyesinthelanguorofsleep.Hiseyelidstrembledasiftheyfeltthevastcyclicmovementoftheearthandherwatchers,trembledasiftheyfeltthestrangelightofsomenewworld.Hissoulwasswooningintosomenewworld,fantastic,dim,uncertainasundersea,traversedbycloudyshapesandbeings.Aworld,aglimmeroraflower?Glimmeringandtrembling,tremblingandunfolding,abreakinglight,anopeningflower,itspreadinendlesssuccessiontoitself,breakinginfullcrimsonandunfoldingandfadingtopalestrose,leafbyleafandwaveoflightbywaveoflight,floodingalltheheavenswithitssoftflushes,everyflushdeeperthantheother.

           Eveninghadfallenwhenhewokeandthesandandaridgrassesofhisbedglowednolonger.Heroseslowlyand,recallingtheraptureofhissleep,sighedatitsjoy.

           Heclimbedtothecrestofthesandhillandgazedabouthim.Eveninghadfallen