Read "The Old House" by Fyodor Sologub online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
Oh magic mirror of memory, so much is reflected in thee! Beloved images pass by with a kind of glimmer.
There were the flowers, which they themselves looked after. There was one flowerbed which they cared for with especial tenderness. There was the fresh, intoxicating evening aroma of gilliflower. There was the cluster of jasmine, dewy at dawn, so sweetly and so gently fragrant, that one wished to weep in its presence, as the grass weeps its tears of dew at golden dawn.