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Merritt, Abraham, 1884-1943

"The Moon Pool"

They turned and ran, racing frantically over the bridge toward
the cavern mouth.
The serried ranks of the dead-alive trembled, shook. Then from their
faces tied the horror of wedded ecstasy and anguish. Peace, utter
peace, followed in its wake.
And as fields of wheat are bent and fall beneath the wind, they fell.
No longer dead-alive, now all of the blessed dead, freed from their
dreadful slavery!
Abruptly from the sparkling mists the cloud of eyes was gone. Faintly
revealed in them were only the heads of the Silent Ones. And they drew
before us; were before us! No flames now in their ebon eyes--for the
flickering fires were quenched in great tears, streaming down the
marble white faces. They bent toward us, over us; their radiance
enfolded us. My eyes darkened. I could not see. I felt a tender hand
upon my head--and panic and frozen dread and nightmare web that held
me fled.
Then they, too, were gone.
Upon Larry's breast the handmaiden was sobbing--sobbing out her
heart--but this time with the joy of one who is swept up from the
very threshold of hell into paradise.


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