|
The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from Life in the Iron-Mills by Rebecca Davis: looks out, with its thwarted life, its mighty hunger, its
unfinished work. Its pale, vague lips seem to tremble with a
terrible question. "Is this the End?" they say,--"nothing
beyond? no more?" Why, you tell me you have seen that look in
the eyes of dumb brutes,--horses dying under the lash. I know.
The deep of the night is passing while I write. The gas-light
wakens from the shadows here and there the objects which lie
scattered through the room: only faintly, though; for they
belong to the open sunlight. As I glance at them, they each
recall some task or pleasure of the coming day. A half-moulded
child's head; Aphrodite; a bough of forest-leaves; music; work;
Life in the Iron-Mills |
