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THE PLAGUE
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and so did the strawberries; high up among the leaves was a golden pear all ripe and juicy, and she sang in a sweet little voice:

"Grow like me
From the tree,
Little man below.
Reach your hand to mine,
Cling like stems of vine;
Shake off all your woe,
Grow with me
As we upward go !"

And the heavens and earth seemed like one big orchard full of fruits all singing, "Grow with me!"

Then I stuck my arms into the soft warm earth up to the elbows, and sank down till I was all enfolded from head to heel, as if on my mother's breast. From the July night rose the Song of Songs, the bright bunches of stars swung before my eyes, and the deep voice of St. Martin's struck the hour; twelve o'clock, fourteen, sixteen o'clock? Surely there was something strange in the old timepiece ! And the star fruit above and below began to strike too, or was it chiming? with such celestial sounds that they pierced my heart, and vibrated in my ears like distant thunder. Then it seemed as I lay that a tree of Jesse was growing from me and I mounted with it, up, up among the chiming branches towards a bright planet dancing on the