"Yet both seem happy now to share it," I said, "or how else were they
comforted?" Nor did I consider before she told me that they will run
again when they be grown men, Sleep and Death, in just such a thick
darkness before dawn; and one called Love will then run with them, who
is very vehement and fleet of foot, and never turns aside, nor
falters. He who then shall win may ask a different prize. For truth to
tell, she said, only children can find delight for long in dust and
ruin.
At that moment Death himself came hastening to his mother, and, taking
her hand, turned to the enormous picture of the skies as if in some
faint apprehension. But Sleep saw nothing amiss, lay at full length
among the "cool-rooted flowers," while Rosinante grazed beside him.
I told her also, in turn, of my journey; and that although transient,
or everlasting, solace of all restlessness and sorrow and too-wild
happiness may be found in them, yet men think not often on these
divine children.
"As for this one," I said, looking down into the pathless beauty of
Death's grey eyes, "some fear, some mock, some despise him; some
violently, some without complaint pursue; most men would altogether
dismiss, and forget him.
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