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“In the shady quiet of the woods, peace flowed over him like soothing balm. No creditors assailed him here and the old woman did not have the breath for the hills. In hollows grown chest high with briars he sometimes came upon the remains of houses, like falling ruins of some forgotten race. He wandered through them, kicking aside ancient rubbish, passing through shades of lives lived out long hence.” — William Gay
In the shady quiet of the woods, peace flowed over him like soothing balm. No creditors assailed him here and the old woman did not have the breath for the hills. In hollows grown chest high with briars he sometimes came upon the remains of houses, like falling ruins of some forgotten race. He wandered through them, kicking aside ancient rubbish, passing through shades of lives lived out long hence.