The House of the Wolfings is a fantasy tale in prose and verse, set in an ancient woodland realm called the Mark. It follows the Wolfing kindred and their allies as they face an invading host and defend their home. Its poetic language and heroic atmosphere make it rewarding to hear.
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Cover illustration generated by AI.
Text source: gutenberg.org · The work is in the public domain.
Opening of the book
Transcribed from the 1904 Longmans, Green, and Co. edition by David Price, email [email protected] THE HOUSE OF THE WOLFINGS A TALE OF THE HOUSE OF THE WOLFINGS AND ALL THE KINDREDS OF THE MARK WRITTEN IN PROSE AND IN VERSE by William Morris Whiles in the early Winter eve We pass amid the gathering night Some homestead that we had to leave Years past; and see its candles bright Shine in the room beside the door Where we were merry years agone But now must never enter more, As still the dark road drives us on. E’en so the world of men may turn At even of some hurried day And see the ancient glimmer burn Across the waste that hath no way; Then with that faint light in its eyes A while I bid it linger near And nurse in wavering memories The bitter-sweet of days that were. CHAPTER I—THE DWELLINGS OF MID-MARK