Page:An Indian Study of Love and Death.pdf/47



… silence. Silence and aloneness. Yet am I sure that I am not cast but into the abyss where he is not! … All is so quiet. The lamps before the altar burn like distant stars. Out in the forest, the dead leaves fall from the winter boughs. The sea breaks, grey and tideless, on the long, curving shore. Only time flies, urging me ever further onward, from the hallowed moment. Fain would time make the place of parting into a shrine of memory. Fain would let die the last tones of his voice within my ear, the look of his eyes, his touch upon my head …

But I will not be carried! Time it is