|
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: face now and then to the pure light, that seemed so far off, as
one that said, "How long, O Lord? how long?"
The hour was over at last. The moon, passing over her nightly
path, slowly came nearer, and threw the light across his bed on
his feet. He watched it steadily, as it crept up, inch by inch,
slowly. It seemed to him to carry with it a great silence. He
had been so hot and tired there always in the mills! The years
had been so fierce and cruel! There was coming now quiet and
coolness and sleep. His tense limbs relaxed, and settled in a
calm languor. The blood ran fainter and slow from his heart.
He did not think now with a savage anger of what might be and
 Life in the Iron-Mills |