I
There was a field green and fragrant with grass and
flowers, and flooded with sunlight, and the air above it
throbbed with the songs of birds. It was yet morning
when a great darkness spread over the earth, and out of
the darkness lightning, and after the lightning fire that
consumed every green thing; and the singing birds fell
dying upon the blackened grass. The thunder and the
flame past, but it was still dark—till a ray of light
touched the field's edge and grew, little by little. Then
one who listened heard—not the songs of birds again,
but the flutter of broken wings.
