“Slumber, watcher, till the spheres
Six and twenty thousand years
Have revolv’d, and I return
To the spot where now I burn.
Other stars anon shall rise
To the axis of the skies;
Stars that soothe and stars that bless
With a sweet forgetfulness:
Only when my round is o’er
Shall the past disturb thy door.”
In literature I have walked the midnight paths with Poe or crept amidst the shadows with
Machen; combed the realms of horrific stars with Baudelaire, or steeped myself with earth’s inner madness amidst the tales of ancient lore.
Hans Christian Andersen was an author and prolific writer of plays, travelogues, novels, and poems. Andersen gained immortality though for his fairy tales. While considered a children’s author, Andersen’s stories express themes that transcend age and nationality. They claw into the dark heart of humanity and shine a light and lesson on malevolent deeds. Andersen’s […]
