Yes, that she could wellunderstand, the beautiful Pu. Her thoughts wandered away from herhome, wandered to the temple, but not for the sake of holy things.Poor Pu! Poor Soui-hong!
  "Their earthly thoughts met, but my cold beam lay between the two,like the sword of the cherub."
  TWENTY-SEVENTH EVENING
  "The air was calm," said the Moon; "the water was transparent asthe purest ether through which I was gliding, and deep below thesurface I could see the strange plants that stretched up their longarms towards me like the gigantic trees of the forest. The fishes swamto and fro above their tops. High in the air a flight of wild swanswere winging their way, one of which sank lower and lower, withwearied pinions, his eyes following the airy caravan, that meltedfarther and farther into the distance. With outspread wings he sankslowly, as a soap bubble sinks in the still air, till he touched thewater. At length his head lay back between his wings, and silentlyhe lay there, like a white lotus flower upon the quiet lake. And agentle wind arose, and crisped the quiet surface, which gleamed likethe clouds that poured along in great broad waves; and the swan raisedhis head, and the glowing water splashed like blue fire over hisbreast and back. The morning dawn illuminated the red clouds, the swanrose strengthened, and flew towards the rising sun, towards the bluishcoast whither the caravan had gone; but he flew alone, with alonging in his breast. Lonely he flew over the blue swelling billows."
  TWENTY-EIGHTH EVENING
  "I will give you another picture of Sweden," said the Moon. "Amongdark pine woods, near the melancholy banks of the Stoxen, lies the oldconvent church of Wreta. My rays glided through the grating into theroomy vaults, where kings sleep tranquilly in great stone coffins.On the wall, above the grave of each, is placed the emblem ofearthly grandeur, a kingly crown; but it is made only of wood, paintedand gilt, and is hung on a wooden peg driven into the wall. Theworms have gnawed the gilded wood, the spider has spun her web fromthe crown down to the sand, like a mourning banner, frail andtransient as the grief of mortals. How quietly they sleep! I canremember them quite plainly. I still see the bold smile on their lips,that so strongly and plainly expressed joy or grief. When thesteamboat winds along like a magic snail over the lakes, a strangeroften comes to the church, and visits the burial vault; he asks thenames of the kings, and they have a dead and forgotten sound. Heglances with a smile at the worm-eaten crowns, and if he happens to bea pious, thoughtful man, something of melancholy mingles with thesmile. Slumber on, ye dead ones! The Moon thinks of you, the Moon atnight sends down his rays into your silent kingdom, over which hangsthe crown of pine wood."
  TWENTY-NINTH EVENING
  "Close by the high-road," said the Moon, "is an inn, andopposite to it is a great waggon-shed, whose straw roof was just beingre-thatched. I looked down between the bare rafters and through theopen loft into the comfortless space below. The turkey-cock slept onthe beam, and the saddle rested in the empty crib. In the middle ofthe shed stood a travelling carriage; the proprietor was inside,fast asleep, while the horses were being watered. The coachmanstretched himself, though I am very sure that he had been mostcomfortably asleep half the last stage. The door of the servants' roomstood open, and the bed looked as if it had been turned over and over;the candle stood on the floor, and had burnt deep down into thesocket. The wind blew cold through the shed: it was nearer to the dawnthan to midnight. In the wooden frame on the ground slept a wanderingfamily of musicians. The father and mother seemed to be dreaming ofthe burning liquor that remained in the bottle. The little paledaughter was dreaming too, for her eyes were wet with tears. The harpstood at their heads, and the dog lay stretched at their feet."
  THIRTIETH EVENING
  "It was in a little provincial town," the Moon said; "it certainlyhappened last year, but that has nothing to do with the matter. Isaw it quite plainly. To-day I read about it in the papers, butthere it was not half so clearly expressed. In the taproom of thelittle inn sat the bear leader, eating his supper; the bear was tiedup outside, behind the wood pile- poor Bruin, who did nobody any harm,though he looked grim enough. Up in the garret three little childrenwere playing by the light of my beams; the eldest was perhaps sixyears old, the youngest certainly not more than two. 'Tramp, tramp'-somebody was coming upstairs: who might it be?