Портрет художника в юності
Chapter 4
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