A Prisoner in Fairyland: (the Book that "Uncle Paul Wrote)A curious, unusual, puzzling type of book. The story of the awakening of a London financier who, after long years spent in the amassing of a fortune, reverts to his early dream of becoming a great philanthropist. |
Other editions - View all
A Prisoner in Fairyland: The Book That 'Uncle Paul' Wrote (Classic Reprint) Algernon Blackwood No preview available - 2017 |
A Prisoner in Fairyland: The Book That 'Uncle Paul' Wrote (Classic Reprint) Algernon Blackwood No preview available - 2015 |
Common terms and phrases
already answered Areuse asked beauty blue Boudry Bourcelles brimstone butterflies busy caught Cave Citadelle Cousin Henry cried Daddy Daddy's darkness delightful door dream Dustman eyes face fairy Fairyland feel felt flashed flowers forest garden glanced Glycines golden hair hand Haystack heard heart Henry Rogers instantly Jane Anne Jinny knew La Citadelle laughed laughter light listened looked Magic Box mind Minks Miss Waghorn Mother mountains Neuchâtel never night once passed pattern pause peat Pension perhaps Pleiades Pontarlier realized remember reply Riquette round rush seemed shining sleep smiled soft softly somehow somewhere sprites stared Starlight Express stars stood story sympathy talk tell There's thing thought tiny told touch train turned village voice W. E. HENLEY waiting watched whispered wind window woman wonder words wumbled
Popular passages
Page 327 - All we have willed or hoped or dreamed of good, shall exist ; Not its semblance, but itself ; no beauty, nor good, nor power • Whose voice has gone forth, but each survives for the melodist When eternity affirms the conception of an hour.
Page 284 - And only the Master shall praise us. and only the Master shall blame: And no one shall work for money. and no one shall work for fame. But each for the joy of the working. and each. in his separate star. Shall draw the Thing as he sees It for the God of Things as They Are!
Page 134 - Romeo ; and, when he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine, That all the world will be in love with night, And pay no worship to the garish sun.
Page 458 - The point of one white star is quivering still Deep in the orange light of widening morn Beyond the purple mountains : through a chasm Of wind-divided mist the darker lake Reflects it : now it wanes : it gleams again As the waves fade, and as the burning threads Of woven cloud unravel in pale air : Tis lost ! and through yon peaks of cloud-like snow The roseate sunlight quivers...
Page 263 - And strows her lights below, And deepens on and up! the gates Roll back, and far within For me the Heavenly Bridegroom waits, To make me pure of sin. The sabbaths of Eternity, One sabbath deep and wide— A light upon the shining sea — The Bridegroom with his bride!
Page 101 - SWIFTLY walk over the western wave, Spirit of Night ! Out of the misty eastern cave, Where all the long and lone daylight Thou wovest dreams of joy and fear, Which make thee terrible and dear, — Swift be thy flight...
Page 284 - And those that were good shall be happy : they shall sit in a golden chair; They shall splash at a ten-league canvas with brushes of comets' hair; They shall find real saints to draw from — Magdalene, Peter, and Paul ; They shall work for an age at a sitting and never be tired at all...
Page 230 - ... hill-recesses Her more lovely music Broods and dies. O to mount again where erst I haunted; Where the old red hills are bird-enchanted, And the low green meadows Bright with sward; And when even dies, the million-tinted, And the night has come, and planets glinted, Lo, the valley hollow...
Page 486 - How many times do I love thee, dear? Tell me how many thoughts there be In the atmosphere Of a new-fall'n year, Whose white and sable hours appear The latest flake of Eternity : So many times do I love thee, dear.
Page 185 - There's not the smallest orb which thou beholdest But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins. Such harmony is in immortal souls : But whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.