From this little distance the many fires, with the black forms of men passing to and fro before the crimson rays, made weird and satanic effects.
He lay down in the grass.

The blades pressed tenderly against his cheek.

The moon had been lighted and was hung in a treetop.

The liquid stillness of the night enveloping him made him feel vast pity for himself.

There was a caress in the soft winds; and the whole mood of the darkness, he thought, was one of sympathy for himself in his distress.
He wished, without reserve, that he was at home again making the endless rounds from the house to the barn, from the barn to the fields, from the fields to the barn, from the barn to the house.