H. B. Marriott Watson

H. B. Marriott Watson

Summary

Portrait of H. B. Marriott Watson 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.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of H. B. Marriott Watson H. B. Marriott Watson Diogenes of London (collection… (1893)

The soil is turned to ignoble uses, broken with the plough and the harrow, and the hills that once tinkled to the laughter of the fairy now smoke from a hundred brazen mouths; or at best stand silent in a melancholy reticence. Each hour brings its own disillusionment, but it seems a pity we have lost our hold upon this pretty faith, which ran against no whim of modern progress.
Source: Wikisource

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