. In the forest of Arden. i^Tn-j-^ J that any other hour had ever pressedits cup of experience to my lips. Thegreat world of which I was once partdisappeared out of memory like a mistthat recedes into a faint cloud and liesfaint and far on the boundaries of theday; my own personal life, to whichI had been bound by such a multitudeof gossamer threads that when I triedto unloose one I seemed to weave ahundred in its place, seemed to sinkbelow the surface of consciousness. Iceased to think, to feel; I was consciousonly of the vast and glorious world oftree and sky which surrounded me. Ifelt a thr
. In the forest of Arden. i^Tn-j-^ J that any other hour had ever pressedits cup of experience to my lips. Thegreat world of which I was once partdisappeared out of memory like a mistthat recedes into a faint cloud and liesfaint and far on the boundaries of theday; my own personal life, to whichI had been bound by such a multitudeof gossamer threads that when I triedto unloose one I seemed to weave ahundred in its place, seemed to sinkbelow the surface of consciousness. Iceased to think, to feel; I was consciousonly of the vast and glorious world oftree and sky which surrounded me. Ifelt a thrill of wonder that I should beso placed. I had often Iain thus underother trees, but never in such a moodas this. It was as if I had detachedmyself from the hitherto unbroken cur-rent of my personal life, and by somemiracle of that marvellous place becomepart of the inarticulate life of Nature. SI MWSismj/BilmnimiitiuiMfrathiiiini i(»tmi I nniniitii!tfliiJl»V[iia(,t!ll«n<Sffi51
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Keywords: ., bookauthormabieham, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookyear1903
