Explore "Green Balls" by Paul Bewsher on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"Around me broods the dim mysterious Night, / Star-lit and still. / No whisper comes across the Plain. " / -- _The Night Raid._
Night! Before I knew I was to fly through the darkness over the country of the enemy; night had been for me a time of soft withdrawal from the world -- a time of quiet. It still held its old childhood mystery of a vague oblivion between day and day, an unusual space of time peopled by slumberous dreams in the gloom of a warm, familiar bed.