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THE STORY WITHOUT AN END
thither whence thou earnest, thou dark fire of envy, for the sun lightens only in love; the greedy earth, indeed, sometimes turns his mild light into scorching fire. Fly back, then, for with thy like alone must thou dwell.’ I fell, and when I recovered myself, I was glimmering coldly above the stagnant waters.”
While they were talking, the Child had fallen asleep; for he knew nothing of the world nor of men, and he could make nothing of their stories. Weariness had spoken a more intelligible language to him–that he understood, and had fallen asleep.
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