H. B. Marriott Watson,
Diogenes of London (collection…
(1893)
“ The red sun takes the humours from the grass, and the wind set the trees a-quiver, but they warm not, neither fan, the elfin folk in the quiet glades. All these are fled, rapt into a limbo of forgotten myths, where gnomes and djinns and trolls keep them spectral company. The lively imagination of the human kind has fashioned a creditable variety of these creatures, and now that the art is gone with the capacity of belief, we cold inheritors of the ages may take our choice from a motley society of perished immortals. ”
