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Merritt, Abraham, 1884-1943

"The Moon Pool"


Once more the first great note pealed out! Once more it died and from
the clustered spheres a kaleidoscopic blaze shot as though drawn from
the majestic sound itself. The many-coloured rays darted across the
white waters and sought the face of the irised Veil. As they touched,
it sparkled, flamed, wavered, and shook with fountains of prismatic
colour.
The light increased--and in its intensity the silver air darkened.
Faded into shadow that white mosaic of flower-crowned faces set in the
amphitheatre of jet, and vast shadows dropped upon the high-flung
tiers and shrouded them. But on the skirts of the rays the fretted
stalls in which we sat with the fair-haired ones blazed out,
iridescent, like jewels.
I was sensible of an acceleration of every pulse; a wild stimulation
of every nerve. I felt myself being lifted above the world--close to
the threshold of the high gods--soon their essence and their power
would stream out into me! I glanced at Larry. His eyes were--wild--
with life!
I looked at Olaf--and in his face was none of this--only hate, and
hate, and hate.


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