Excerpt from Pan and the Twins
Dark athwart the purple twilight of the Campagna there stretched an aqueduct bearing sweet water to Rome. The flight of its arches eclipsed newly risen stars and sprang aloft from among reeds and thickets, where danced the fire-fly and croaked the frog.
At the foot of a stone pier, huddled together, bruised and suffering from many blows and many wrongs, there sat a ragged lad. His face had been beautiful save for the grief upon it; but it was stained with tears and distorted with pain. The boy was dark-eyed, with a delicacy of feature and a brooding thoughtfulness of expression akin to the sculptors' Antinous. Now, however, tribulation concealed his good looks, and he wept again at the hopelessness of his position.
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