“A few watercourses still held the red rays of sunset. They glittered like fire snakes, twining through the dark opaqueness of the landscape, murmuring through funereal waving plumes of blackening grass and rushes. They had witnessed the chasing of witches to their deaths. Here, where all was now still, save for the wailing cry of the peewit, those beings ha shrieked aloud their innocence, or ,borne aloft on the maddened wings of ambitious ecstasy,had proclaimed their power to raise the quick and the dead , to curse if they could not bless, hate if they could not love-clothing themselves with sombre majesty, playing with elemental fires, rather than eat porridge humbly , bow to the squire, and tremble before the priest.”
Book:Helen of Four Gates