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Burning Wheel - Aldous Huxley · Dymer

• 0:00
  Speaker 1: The Burning Wheel from The Burning Wheel by Aldus Huxley,
• 0:05
  Speaker 1: read for LibriVox dot Org by Larry Wilson, wearied of
• 0:11
  Speaker 1: its own turning, distressed with its own busy restlessness, yearning
• 0:17
  Speaker 1: to draw the circumferent pain, the rim that is dizzy
• 0:21
  Speaker 1: with speed to the motionless center. There to rest, the
• 0:26
  Speaker 1: wheel must strain through agony on agony, contracting, returning into
• 0:31
  Speaker 1: the core of steel. And at last the wheel has rest,
• 0:35
  Speaker 1: is still shrunk to an adamant core, fulfilling its will
• 0:40
  Speaker 1: in fixity. But the yearning atoms, as they grind closer
• 0:45
  Speaker 1: and closer, more and more fiercely, together beget a flaming
• 0:49
  Speaker 1: fire upward, leaping, billowing out in a burning passionate fierce
• 0:54
  Speaker 1: desire to find the infinite calm of the mother's breast.
• 1:00
  Speaker 1: And there the flame is a christ child, sleeping bright,
• 1:04
  Speaker 1: tenderly radiant, all bitterness lost in the infinite peace of
• 1:10
  Speaker 1: the mother's bosom. But death comes, creeping in a tide
• 1:15
  Speaker 1: of slow oblivion, till the flame in fear wakes from
• 1:19
  Speaker 1: the sleep of its quiet brightness and burns with a
• 1:22
  Speaker 1: darkening passion and pain, lest all forgetting in quiet it
• 1:28
  Speaker 1: perish and as it burns and anguishes, it quickens, begetting
• 1:33
  Speaker 1: once again the wheel that yearns, sick with speed for
• 1:38
  Speaker 1: the terrible stillness of the adamant core and the steel
• 1:41
  Speaker 1: hard chain. And so once more shall the wheel revolve
• 1:47
  Speaker 1: till its anguish cease in the iron anguish of fixity,
• 1:52
  Speaker 1: till once again flame billows out to infinity, sinking to
• 1:56
  Speaker 1: a sleep of brightness in that vast, oblivious piece. End
• 2:03
  Speaker 1: of poor. This recording is in the public domain.
• 2:14
  Speaker 2: Doors of the Temple from the Burning Will by Aldous Huxley,
• 2:19
  Speaker 2: read for LibriVox dot org by Elizabeth Buchanan. Many are
• 2:25
  Speaker 2: the doors of the spirit that lead into the inmost shrine.
• 2:29
  Speaker 2: And I count the gates of the temple divine, since
• 2:32
  Speaker 2: the god of the place is God indeed, and these
• 2:36
  Speaker 2: are the gates that God decreed should lead to his house,
• 2:40
  Speaker 2: kisses and wine, cool depths of thought, youth without rest
• 2:47
  Speaker 2: and calm, old age, prayer and desire, the lover's and
• 2:52
  Speaker 2: mother's breast, the fire of sense, and the poet's fire.
• 2:58
  Speaker 2: But he that worships the gates alone, forgetting the shrine beyond,
• 3:02
  Speaker 2: shall see the great valves open, suddenly, revealing not God's
• 3:08
  Speaker 2: radiant throne, but the fires of wrath and agony.
• 3:15
  Speaker 3: And is.
• 3:17
  Speaker 2: This recording is in the public domain.
• 3:22
  Speaker 4: Llieur de lill Audon from the Burning Wheel by Ordus
• 3:26
  Speaker 4: Huxley read for Libbyvox dot Org by algiepug Up From
• 3:32
  Speaker 4: the Darkness on the Laughing Stage, A sudden trap door
• 3:36
  Speaker 4: shot you unawares incarnate tragedy with your strange airs of
• 3:42
  Speaker 4: courteous sadness. Nothing could assuage the secular grief that was
• 3:46
  Speaker 4: your heritage, passed down the long line to the last
• 3:50
  Speaker 4: that bears the name, a gift of yearnings and despairs
• 3:54
  Speaker 4: too greatly noble for this iron age. Time moved you,
• 4:00
  Speaker 4: not in quotehidian beats, but in the long, slow rhythm
• 4:04
  Speaker 4: the ages keep in their immortal symphony. You taught that
• 4:08
  Speaker 4: not in the harsh turmoil of the streets does life
• 4:11
  Speaker 4: consist you bad. This ould drink deep of infinite things,
• 4:16
  Speaker 4: saying the rest is naught. End of poem. This recording
• 4:23
  Speaker 4: is in the public domain.
• 4:30
  Speaker 5: Darkness from the Burning Wheel by Oldus Huxley read for LibriVox,
• 4:36
  Speaker 5: Starter Orgy by Jim mcdouball. My close waltz soul has
• 4:42
  Speaker 5: never known that innermost darkness, dazzling sight like the blind point.
• 4:48
  Speaker 5: Whence the visions spring in the core of the geezers
• 4:51
  Speaker 5: chrystollate the mystic darkness that laps God's throne in a
• 4:55
  Speaker 5: splendor beyond imagining, surpassing bright but the any twisted darknesses
• 5:01
  Speaker 5: that range the city to and fro in aimless, subtlely
• 5:05
  Speaker 5: passing part an ebb and glutinously flow. Darkness of lust
• 5:10
  Speaker 5: and avarice, of the crippled body and the crooked heart.
• 5:15
  Speaker 5: These darknesses I know. End of poem. This recording is
• 5:21
  Speaker 5: in the public domain.
• 5:28
  Speaker 4: Mole from the Burning Wheel by Orders Huxley, read Forlibbyvox
• 5:33
  Speaker 4: dot Org by Algaepag. Tunneled in solid blackness, creeps the
• 5:38
  Speaker 4: old mole soul and wakes or sleeps, he knows not which,
• 5:44
  Speaker 4: but tunnels on through ages of oblivion, until at last
• 5:48
  Speaker 4: the long constraint of each hand wall is lost, and
• 5:52
  Speaker 4: faint comes Daylight creeping from afar and mole work grows,
• 5:57
  Speaker 4: crepuscular mets, air and bursts. Molesey's men hugely walking or
• 6:06
  Speaker 4: are they trees and far horizons, smoking blue and chasing
• 6:11
  Speaker 4: clouds Forever new green hills like lighted lamps aglow or
• 6:18
  Speaker 4: quenching neath the cloud shadow quenching and blazing, turn by
• 6:23
  Speaker 4: turn springs great green signals fitfully burn. Mole travels on,
• 6:30
  Speaker 4: but finds the steering a harder task of pioneering than
• 6:34
  Speaker 4: when he thridded through the strait blind catacombs that ancient
• 6:38
  Speaker 4: fate had carved for him. Stupid and dumb and blind
• 6:44
  Speaker 4: and touchless, he had come away without a turn. But
• 6:49
  Speaker 4: here under the sky, the passenger chooses his own best way,
• 6:54
  Speaker 4: and Mole, distracted, wanders, yet is whole, regrets not much
• 6:59
  Speaker 4: werein his crept, but runs a joyous nymph lipt this
• 7:04
  Speaker 4: way and that by all made mad river Nymph and
• 7:09
  Speaker 4: oriad Ocean's daughters, and Lorelaie combing the silken mystery, the
• 7:15
  Speaker 4: glaucous gold of her rivery tresses. Each haunts the traveler,
• 7:20
  Speaker 4: each possesses the drunken, wavering soul. A while then, with
• 7:25
  Speaker 4: a phantom's cockcrow smile mocks craving with sheer vanishment, mole
• 7:32
  Speaker 4: eyes grow hawks. Knowledge is lent in grudging driblets that
• 7:36
  Speaker 4: pay high, unconscionable usury to unrelenting life. Mole learns to
• 7:42
  Speaker 4: travel more secure the turns of his long way, less
• 7:46
  Speaker 4: puzzlings seem, and all those magic forms the gleam in
• 7:51
  Speaker 4: aery invitation sheat less often than they did of old.
• 7:56
  Speaker 4: The earth slopes upward, fold by fold of quiet hills
• 8:01
  Speaker 4: that meet the gold serenity of western skies, over the
• 8:05
  Speaker 4: world's edge. With clear eyes, our mole transcendent sees his
• 8:10
  Speaker 4: way tunneled in light. He must obey necessity again and
• 8:15
  Speaker 4: thread close catacombs as erst he did Fate's tunnelings. Himself
• 8:21
  Speaker 4: must bore through the sunset's inmost core. The guiding walls
• 8:26
  Speaker 4: to each hand shine luminous and crystalline, and moles shall
• 8:31
  Speaker 4: tunnel on and on till night let fall oblivion. End
• 8:38
  Speaker 4: of poem. This recording is in the public domain.
• 8:47
  Speaker 1: The Two Seasons from the Burning Wheel by Aldus Huxley
• 8:52
  Speaker 1: read for LibriVox dot Org by Larry Wilson. Summer on
• 8:58
  Speaker 1: him self, intent passed without for nothing caring save his
• 9:02
  Speaker 1: own high festival, My windows, blind and winkless, staring wondered
• 9:08
  Speaker 1: what the pageant meant, nor ever understood at all. And
• 9:12
  Speaker 1: oh the pains of sentiment, the loneliness beyond all bearing
• 9:18
  Speaker 1: mucus and spleen and gaul.
• 9:22
  Speaker 4: But now that.
• 9:24
  Speaker 1: Gray November peers in at my fire bright window pane,
• 9:28
  Speaker 1: and all its misty spires and trees loom in upon
• 9:32
  Speaker 1: me through the rain and question of the light that
• 9:36
  Speaker 1: cheers the room within. Now my soul sees life whereof
• 9:41
  Speaker 1: old were sepulchers. And in these newfound sympathies sinks petty hopes,
• 9:48
  Speaker 1: and loves and fears, and knows that life is not
• 9:53
  Speaker 1: in vain. End of poem. This recording is in the
• 9:59
  Speaker 1: public domain.
• 10:07
  Speaker 2: Two realities from the Burning Wheel by Aldua Suxley, read
• 10:11
  Speaker 2: for LibriVox dot org by Elizabeth Buchanan. A wagon passed
• 10:16
  Speaker 2: with scarlet wheels and a yellow body shining new Splendid
• 10:21
  Speaker 2: said I, how fine it feels to be alive when
• 10:24
  Speaker 2: beauty peels the grimy husk from life? And you, said splendid,
• 10:29
  Speaker 2: And I thought you'd seen that wagon blazing down the street.
• 10:32
  Speaker 2: But I looked and saw that your gaze had been
• 10:35
  Speaker 2: on a child that was kicking an obscene brown ardor
• 10:37
  Speaker 2: with his feet. Our souls are elephants, thought I remote
• 10:42
  Speaker 2: behind a prisoning grille with trunks thrust out to peer,
• 10:46
  Speaker 2: and pry and pounce upon reality, and each, at his
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  Speaker 2: own sweet will, seizes the bond that he likes best,
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  Speaker 2: and passes over all the rest. End of porn. This
• 10:58
  Speaker 2: recording is in the public domain.
• 11:03
  Speaker 5: Quotidian Vision from the Burning Wheel by Aldus Huxley, read
• 11:08
  Speaker 5: for LibriVox, dott awor g by Jim McDougall. There is
• 11:13
  Speaker 5: a sadness in the street, and sullenly the folk I
• 11:16
  Speaker 5: meet droop their heads as they walk home on without
• 11:20
  Speaker 5: a smile, without a song. A midst of cold and
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  Speaker 5: muffling gray falls fold by fold on another day that
• 11:29
  Speaker 5: dies unwept, but suddenly under a tunneled arch, I see
• 11:34
  Speaker 5: on flank and haunch the chestnut gleam of horses in
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  Speaker 5: a lamp lit steam, and the dead world moves from
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  Speaker 5: me once more, with beauty for its living core. End
• 11:48
  Speaker 5: of poemp. This recording is in the public domain.
• 11:58
  Speaker 2: Vision from the Burning Wheel by Aldouis Huxley, read for
• 12:02
  Speaker 2: LibriVox dot Org by Elizabeth Buchanan. I had been sitting
• 12:09
  Speaker 2: alone with books till doubt was a black disease when
• 12:13
  Speaker 2: I heard the cheerful shout of rooks in the bare
• 12:16
  Speaker 2: prophetic trees, bare trees prophetic of new birth. You lift
• 12:22
  Speaker 2: your branches, clean and free, to be a beacon to
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  Speaker 2: the earth, a flame of wrath for all to see.
• 12:30
  Speaker 2: And the rooks in the branches laugh and shout to
• 12:32
  Speaker 2: those that can hear and understand. Walk through the gloomy
• 12:36
  Speaker 2: ways of doubt, with the torch of vision in your hand.
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  Speaker 2: End of one. This recording is in the public domain.
• 12:48
  Speaker 6: The Mirror from the Burning Wheel by Aldus Huxley read
• 12:53
  Speaker 6: for LibriVox dot Org by rose Hip Slow moving moonlight
• 12:59
  Speaker 6: one did pass across the dreaming looking glass, where sunk
• 13:06
  Speaker 6: inviolably deep, old secrets, unforgotten, sleep of beauties, unforgettable. But
• 13:16
  Speaker 6: dusty cobwebs are woven now across that mirror, which of
• 13:20
  Speaker 6: old sore fingers drawing back the gold from an untroubled brow.
• 13:27
  Speaker 6: And the depths are blinded to the moon and their
• 13:31
  Speaker 6: secrets forgotten forever untold. End of poem. This recording is
• 13:39
  Speaker 6: in the public domain.
• 13:47
  Speaker 7: Variations on a theme of le forg from the Burning
• 13:50
  Speaker 7: Wheel by Aldous Huxley read for LibriVox dot Org by
• 13:53
  Speaker 7: Rick Alberg Youth. As it opens out discloses the sinister
• 13:57
  Speaker 7: metapsychosis of lilies dead and turn to roses red as
• 14:01
  Speaker 7: an angry dawn. But lilies remember our graveside flowers, while
• 14:06
  Speaker 7: slow bright rose leaves sail adrift on the music of
• 14:09
  Speaker 7: happiest hours, And those lilies cold and pale hide fiery
• 14:13
  Speaker 7: roses beneath the lawn of the young bride's parting veil.
• 14:17
  Speaker 4: End of poem.
• 14:19
  Speaker 7: This recording is in the public domain. Philosophy from the
• 14:28
  Speaker 7: Burning Wheel by Aldus Huxley read for LibriVox, dot org
• 14:31
  Speaker 7: by Rick Albert. God needs no christening Pantheus s mutters,
• 14:37
  Speaker 7: Love opens shutters on Heaven's glistening flesh. Keyhole listening hears
• 14:42
  Speaker 7: what God utters, Yes, but God stutters. End of poem.
• 14:47
  Speaker 7: This recording is in the public domain.
• 14:56
  Speaker 4: Philoclea in the Forest from the Burning Wheel by orders Huxley,
• 15:01
  Speaker 4: read for Libbyvox dot Org by algiepug One. Twas I
• 15:08
  Speaker 4: that leaned to amoret with what if the brise of
• 15:11
  Speaker 4: tangled time till lost in the wood ways? He quite
• 15:16
  Speaker 4: forget how plaintive in cities at midnight sounds the chime
• 15:20
  Speaker 4: of bells, slow dying from discord to the hush. Whence
• 15:24
  Speaker 4: they rose and met and in the forest. We shall
• 15:28
  Speaker 4: live free, free from the bondage the time has made
• 15:32
  Speaker 4: to hedge our soul from its liberty. We shall not
• 15:35
  Speaker 4: fear what is mighty, and unafraid, shall look wide eyed
• 15:40
  Speaker 4: at beauty, nor shrink from its majesty. But Amoret answered
• 15:45
  Speaker 4: me again, we are lost in the forest, you and
• 15:49
  Speaker 4: I lost, lost, not free. Though no bonds restrain, for
• 15:55
  Speaker 4: no spy rises for comfort, no landmark in the sky.
• 16:00
  Speaker 4: And the long glades as they curve from sight are
• 16:04
  Speaker 4: dark with a nameless pain. And time creates what he devours,
• 16:09
  Speaker 4: music that sweetly dreams itself away, frail swung leaves of autumn,
• 16:15
  Speaker 4: and the scent of flowers, and the beauty of that
• 16:18
  Speaker 4: poised a moment when the day hangs TwixT the quiet
• 16:21
  Speaker 4: of darkness and the mirth of the sunlit hours, two
• 16:28
  Speaker 4: mottled and gray and brown, they pass the wood, moths wheeling, fluttering,
• 16:35
  Speaker 4: and we chase and they vanish. And in the grass
• 16:39
  Speaker 4: are starry flowers, and the birds sing faint, broken songs
• 16:43
  Speaker 4: of the dying spring. And on the beech bowl, smooth
• 16:48
  Speaker 4: and gray, some lover of an older day has carved
• 16:52
  Speaker 4: in time, blurred lettering one word only alas three loots,
• 17:01
  Speaker 4: I forbid you you must never play. When shimmeringly glimpse
• 17:05
  Speaker 4: by glimps seen through the leaves, the silken figures sway
• 17:09
  Speaker 4: in measured dance, never a shut of day, When time
• 17:14
  Speaker 4: perversely loitering limps through endless twilights. Should your strings whisper
• 17:20
  Speaker 4: of light, remember'd things that happen'd long ago and far away, Loots,
• 17:27
  Speaker 4: I forbid you you must never play, And you pale
• 17:33
  Speaker 4: marble statues, far descried where vistas opened suddenly, I bid
• 17:39
  Speaker 4: you show yourselves no more, but hide your loveliness lest
• 17:44
  Speaker 4: too much glorifi'd by western radiance, slantingly shot down the glade,
• 17:49
  Speaker 4: you turn from stone to living gods, immortal groan and
• 17:55
  Speaker 4: ageless mock my beauty's fleeting pride. You pale, relentless statues
• 18:02
  Speaker 4: fadish gride. End of poem. This recording is in the
• 18:09
  Speaker 4: public domain.
• 18:16
  Speaker 3: Books and Thoughts from the Burning Wheel by Aldus Huxley,
• 18:23
  Speaker 3: read for LibriVox dot Org by Tanner. Balis old ghosts
• 18:31
  Speaker 3: that death forgot to faery across the leaf of the years.
• 18:37
  Speaker 3: These are my friends, and at their tears I weep,
• 18:40
  Speaker 3: and with their mirth and merry on a high tower
• 18:44
  Speaker 3: whose battlements give me all heaven. At a glance, I
• 18:48
  Speaker 3: lie long summer nights in trance, drowsed by the murmurs
• 18:52
  Speaker 3: in the sense that rise from earth, while the sky
• 18:55
  Speaker 3: above me merges its peace with my soul's peace, deep
• 18:59
  Speaker 3: meeting deep. No stir can move me, not break the
• 19:03
  Speaker 3: quiet of my release in vain. The windy sunlight raves
• 19:08
  Speaker 3: at the hush and gloom of polar caves. End of poem.
• 19:16
  Speaker 3: This recording is in the public domain.
• 19:24
  Speaker 8: Contrary to Nature and Aristotle. From the Burning Wheel by
• 19:29
  Speaker 8: al This Huxley. One head of my soul's Amphiespena turns
• 19:35
  Speaker 8: to the daytimes, dust and sweat. But evenings come when
• 19:40
  Speaker 8: I would forget the sword strife of the arena. And
• 19:45
  Speaker 8: then my other self will creep along the scented twilight lanes,
• 19:50
  Speaker 8: to where a little house contains a horde of books,
• 19:54
  Speaker 8: a gift of sleep in windows. Throw a fiery light
• 19:59
  Speaker 8: between the narrowing shutter slats, and golden as the eyes
• 20:03
  Speaker 8: of cats shine me a welcome through the night. End
• 20:08
  Speaker 8: of palm. This recording is in the public domain.
• 20:18
  Speaker 9: Escape from the Burning Wheel by Aldus Huxley read for
• 20:23
  Speaker 9: LibriVox dot org by Winston Tharp. I seek the quietude
• 20:30
  Speaker 9: of stones, or of great oxen. Do lap deep in
• 20:34
  Speaker 9: meadows of lush grass, where sleep drifts tufted on the air,
• 20:39
  Speaker 9: or drones on flowery traffic. Sleep atones for sin, comforting
• 20:44
  Speaker 9: eyes that weep, or me Leathian darkness creep unfelt as
• 20:50
  Speaker 9: tides through dead men's bones in that metallic sea of
• 20:55
  Speaker 9: hair fragrance. I come to drown, despair of wings and
• 20:59
  Speaker 9: dark forgetfulness. No love, love is self known, aspires to
• 21:05
  Speaker 9: heights unearthly. I ask less sleep born of satisfied desires
• 21:15
  Speaker 9: and of poem. This recording is on the public domain.
• 21:25
  Speaker 3: The Garden from the Burning Wheel by Aldus Hocksley readfor
• 21:32
  Speaker 3: LibriVox dot org by Tanner Bayliss. There shall be dark
• 21:39
  Speaker 3: trees round me. I insist on cypresses. I'm terribly romantic
• 21:44
  Speaker 3: and glimpsed between shall move the whole Atlantic now leaden, dull,
• 21:49
  Speaker 3: now subtle with gray mist, now many jeweled. When the
• 21:52
  Speaker 3: waves are kissed by reveling sunlight and the coribantic southwestern wind,
• 21:57
  Speaker 3: so troubled, passion frantic, the poet's mind boiles gold and amethyst,
• 22:04
  Speaker 3: there shall be seen the infinite endeavour of a sad fountain,
• 22:07
  Speaker 3: white against the sky and poised as it strains up,
• 22:10
  Speaker 3: but doomed to break in weeping music ever fair in
• 22:14
  Speaker 3: every young and the bright eyed wood gods, as they
• 22:17
  Speaker 3: slake their thirst in it, are silent, reverently, and of poem.
• 22:26
  Speaker 3: This recording is in the public domain.
• 22:34
  Speaker 9: The Canal from the Burning Wheel by Aldus Huxley, read
• 22:39
  Speaker 9: for LibriVox dot Org by Winston Tharp. No dip and
• 22:46
  Speaker 9: dart of swallows wakes the black slumber of the canal,
• 22:51
  Speaker 9: a mirror dead for lack of loveliness, remembered from ancient
• 22:55
  Speaker 9: azures and green trees, for lack of some white beauty
• 22:59
  Speaker 9: given and flung back secret to her that gave no sun,
• 23:05
  Speaker 9: has bled to wake an echo here of answering red.
• 23:09
  Speaker 9: The surface stirs to no leaf's wind blown track between
• 23:15
  Speaker 9: unseeing walls. The waters rest lifeless and hushed, till suddenly
• 23:20
  Speaker 9: a swan glides from some broader river blue as day,
• 23:25
  Speaker 9: and with the mirrored magic of his breast, creates within
• 23:28
  Speaker 9: that barren waterway new life, new loveliness, and passes on
• 23:37
  Speaker 9: and of poem. This recording is in the public domain.
• 23:48
  Speaker 2: The idea found Wanting from the Burning Wheel by Eldouis Huxley,
• 23:53
  Speaker 2: read for LibriVox dot org by Elizabeth Buchanan. I'm sick
• 24:00
  Speaker 2: of clowndery and owlglass tricks. Damn the whole crowd of you.
• 24:06
  Speaker 2: I hate you all the same, night after night from powdered, stalled,
• 24:13
  Speaker 2: sweating gallery, your faces fixed in flux and idiot mien.
• 24:19
  Speaker 2: The apterix you worship is no victory. And you call
• 24:23
  Speaker 2: on old stupidity, God made to crawl, for tempting with
• 24:27
  Speaker 2: world wisdom's narcotics. I'll break a window through my prison.
• 24:34
  Speaker 2: See the sunset bleeds among the roofs. Comes night, dark
• 24:40
  Speaker 2: blue and calm, as music dying out. Is it escape?
• 24:46
  Speaker 5: No?
• 24:47
  Speaker 2: The last turned on me. I kicked at cardboard, gaped
• 24:52
  Speaker 2: at red limelight. You laughed and cheered my latest knockabout
• 24:58
  Speaker 2: end of one. This recording is in the public domain.
• 25:06
  Speaker 6: Misplaced Love from the Burning Wheel by Aldus Huxley read
• 25:12
  Speaker 6: for librivos dot Org by rose Hip Red Wine that
• 25:18
  Speaker 6: slowly lean'd and brimm'd the shell of pearl where lips
• 25:23
  Speaker 6: had touch'd as light and swift as naked petals of
• 25:28
  Speaker 6: the rose adrift upon the lazy, louted ritournelle of summer
• 25:33
  Speaker 6: bee song, laughing as they fell, gold, memories, dream, incense,
• 25:40
  Speaker 6: childhood's gift, blue as the smoke that far horizons lift,
• 25:46
  Speaker 6: tenuous as the wings of Aeriel, These treasured things. I
• 25:52
  Speaker 6: laid upon the pyre, and the flame kindled, and I
• 25:56
  Speaker 6: fanned it high and strong, in hope could watch the
• 26:01
  Speaker 6: crumbling past. Eager, I knelt before the waning fire phoenix
• 26:08
  Speaker 6: to greet thine immortality. But there was nought but ashes
• 26:13
  Speaker 6: at the last end of poem. This recording is in
• 26:19
  Speaker 6: the public domain.
• 26:27
  Speaker 4: Sonnet from the Burning Wheel by Orders Huxley, read for
• 26:32
  Speaker 4: libbyvaux dot Org by Algiepag Were I to die, you'd
• 26:37
  Speaker 4: break your heart, you say, well, if it do, but bend.
• 26:42
  Speaker 4: I'm satisfied. Bend and rebound, for hearts are temper, tried,
• 26:48
  Speaker 4: mild steel, not hardened with a spring and play of
• 26:52
  Speaker 4: excellent tough swords. It's not that way that you'll be perishing.
• 26:58
  Speaker 4: But when I've died, when snap my light goes out,
• 27:03
  Speaker 4: what will betide you? If the heart breaks, give you
• 27:06
  Speaker 4: leave to stay, what will be left? I wonder if
• 27:10
  Speaker 4: you lose all that you gave me all a year
• 27:15
  Speaker 4: or so out of a life, you say, but worlds say,
• 27:20
  Speaker 4: I have kisses timeless, given in ecstasy that gave me
• 27:24
  Speaker 4: real new I die. You go with me what's left? Limbs, clothes,
• 27:33
  Speaker 4: a pair of shoes. End of poem. This recording is
• 27:40
  Speaker 4: in the public domain. Sentimental Summer from the Burning Wheel
• 27:50
  Speaker 4: by Aldus Huxley Readflibbyvox dot Org by algiepug The West
• 27:57
  Speaker 4: has plucked its flowers and thrown them fading on the night,
• 28:02
  Speaker 4: out of the sky's black depths. Their smiles are greeting
• 28:06
  Speaker 4: from those eyes where all the real, all that I
• 28:09
  Speaker 4: have ever known of the divine is held. And not
• 28:14
  Speaker 4: alone do I stand here now? A present seems to rise.
• 28:19
  Speaker 4: Your voice sounds near across my memories, and answering fingers
• 28:24
  Speaker 4: brush against my own. Yes, it is you, for evening
• 28:30
  Speaker 4: holds those strands of fire and darkness twin'd in one
• 28:34
  Speaker 4: to make your loveliness a web of magic mesh whose
• 28:38
  Speaker 4: cross weft harmony of soul and flesh shadows a thought
• 28:43
  Speaker 4: or glows when smiles awake like sunlight. Pashi in it
• 28:48
  Speaker 4: on Southern Lands. End of poem. This recording is in
• 28:54
  Speaker 4: the public domain. The Choice from the Burning Wheel by
• 29:04
  Speaker 4: Orders Huxley read for Liveryvox dot org by Algiepug. Comrade,
• 29:11
  Speaker 4: now that you're merry and therefore true, say where would
• 29:15
  Speaker 4: you like to die? And have your friend to bury
• 29:18
  Speaker 4: what once was you? On the top of a hill
• 29:21
  Speaker 4: with a peaceful view of country where all is still great? God?
• 29:26
  Speaker 4: Not I. I'd lie in the street where two streams meet,
• 29:31
  Speaker 4: and there's noise enough to fill the outer ear, while
• 29:34
  Speaker 4: within the brain can beat marches of death and life,
• 29:38
  Speaker 4: glory and joy and fear, peace of the sort that moves,
• 29:43
  Speaker 4: and clash of strife, and routs of armies fleeing. There
• 29:48
  Speaker 4: would I shake myself clear out of the deep set
• 29:51
  Speaker 4: grooves of my sluggish being? End of poem. This recording
• 29:57
  Speaker 4: is in the public domain. The higher sensualism from the
• 30:06
  Speaker 4: Burning Wheel by Orders Huxley read for Libbyvox dot org
• 30:11
  Speaker 4: by Algiepug That the Church Spy Lake in Italy stands
• 30:16
  Speaker 4: white on a hill against the sky, and a path
• 30:20
  Speaker 4: of immemorial cobbles leads up and up, where the pilgrim
• 30:24
  Speaker 4: hobbles past a score or so of neat reposaries, where
• 30:28
  Speaker 4: ye stop and breathe and tell your rosaries to the
• 30:32
  Speaker 4: shrined terra cotta mannikins that expound with the liveliest quirks
• 30:36
  Speaker 4: and grins known texts of scripture. But no longer stay
• 30:41
  Speaker 4: should the pilgrim make upon his way. But as means
• 30:45
  Speaker 4: to the end, these shrines stand here to guide to
• 30:48
  Speaker 4: something holier, the church on the hill top your heavens.
• 30:54
  Speaker 4: So with a path leading up to it, past a
• 30:57
  Speaker 4: row of votary priapulids at each you pause and tell
• 31:02
  Speaker 4: your beads along the quintuple strings of sense, then on
• 31:07
  Speaker 4: to face Heaven's eminence, new stimulated, new inspired. End of poem.
• 31:15
  Speaker 4: This recording as in the public domain sonnet from the
• 31:24
  Speaker 4: Burning Wheel by Orders Huxley, read for libbybox dot org
• 31:29
  Speaker 4: by Algiepug. If that a sparkle of true star shine
• 31:34
  Speaker 4: bee that led my way, If some diviner thing than
• 31:38
  Speaker 4: common thought urge me to fashioning close waven links of
• 31:42
  Speaker 4: burnished poetry, then all the heaven that one time dwelt
• 31:46
  Speaker 4: in me has fled, leaving the body triumphing dead flesh.
• 31:51
  Speaker 4: It seems, with not a dream to bring visions that
• 31:55
  Speaker 4: better warm immediacy. Why have my visions left me what
• 32:00
  Speaker 4: could kill that feeble spark, which yet had life and
• 32:03
  Speaker 4: heat fulfillment showed present, rich and fear. I strived to mount,
• 32:09
  Speaker 4: but catch the nearest. Still souls have been drowned between hearts,
• 32:14
  Speaker 4: beat and beat, entrapped, entangled in a woman's hair. End
• 32:22
  Speaker 4: of poem. This recording is in the public domain.
• 32:31
  Speaker 9: Formal verses from the Burning Wheel by Aldus Huxley read
• 32:37
  Speaker 9: for LibriVox dot Org by Winston Tharp One, Mother of
• 32:46
  Speaker 9: all my future memories, mistress of my new life, which
• 32:50
  Speaker 9: but to day began. When I beheld deep in your eyes,
• 32:54
  Speaker 9: my own love mirrored, and the warm surprise of the
• 32:58
  Speaker 9: first kiss swept both our souls away. Your love has
• 33:03
  Speaker 9: freed me, for I was oppressed by my own devil,
• 33:06
  Speaker 9: whose unwholesome breath tarnished my youth, leaving to me at
• 33:10
  Speaker 9: best age, lacking comfort of a soul at rest, and
• 33:14
  Speaker 9: weariness beyond the hope of death. Two ah, those were
• 33:21
  Speaker 9: days of silent happiness. I never spoke and had no
• 33:25
  Speaker 9: need to speak. While on the windy downland, cheek by cheek,
• 33:29
  Speaker 9: the slow driven sun beheld us. Each caress had oratory
• 33:34
  Speaker 9: for its own defense. And when I kissed or felt
• 33:37
  Speaker 9: her fingers press. I envied not Demosthenes his Greek, nor
• 33:42
  Speaker 9: Tully for his Latin eloquence and of poem. This recording
• 33:51
  Speaker 9: is in the public domain.
• 33:58
  Speaker 1: Perils of the Small Hours from the Burning Wheel by
• 34:02
  Speaker 1: Aldus Huxley, read for LibriVox dot Org by Larry Wilson.
• 34:09
  Speaker 1: When life burns low as the fire in the grate,
• 34:12
  Speaker 1: and all the evening's books are read, I sit alone,
• 34:17
  Speaker 1: save for the dead and the lovers I have grown
• 34:20
  Speaker 1: to hate. But all at once the narrow gloom of
• 34:23
  Speaker 1: hatred and despair expands in tenderness. Thought stretches hands to
• 34:28
  Speaker 1: welcome to the midnight room, another presence, a memory of
• 34:32
  Speaker 1: how last year, in the sunlit field, laughing you suddenly
• 34:37
  Speaker 1: revealed beauty in immortality. For so it is a gesture,
• 34:44
  Speaker 1: strips life bare of all its make believe, all unprepared,
• 34:48
  Speaker 1: we may receive our casual apocalypse. Sheer beauty. Then you
• 34:54
  Speaker 1: seem to stir unbodied soul, soul sleeps tonight, and love
• 34:59
  Speaker 1: come demean spirit's sight. When body plays interpreter and a poem.
• 35:09
  Speaker 1: This recording is in the public domain.
• 35:18
  Speaker 6: Complaint from the Burning Wheel by Aldus Huxley, read for
• 35:24
  Speaker 6: LibriVox dot Org by Rose Hip. I have tried to
• 35:29
  Speaker 6: remember the familiar places, the pillared gloom of the beech woods,
• 35:35
  Speaker 6: the towns by the sea. I have tried to people
• 35:39
  Speaker 6: the past with dear known faces. But you were haunting
• 35:44
  Speaker 6: me like a remorse, insistent, pitiless. You have filled my spirit,
• 35:52
  Speaker 6: You were ever at hand. You have mocked my gods
• 35:56
  Speaker 6: with your new loveliness, broken the old shrines stand end
• 36:04
  Speaker 6: of poem. This recording is in the public domain.
• 36:14
  Speaker 9: Return to an Old Home from the Burning Wheel by
• 36:18
  Speaker 9: Aldus Huxley read for LibriVox dot Org by Winston Tharp.
• 36:26
  Speaker 9: In this Wood, how the hazels have grown? I left
• 36:31
  Speaker 9: a treasure, all my own, of childish kisses and laughter
• 36:34
  Speaker 9: and pain, left till I might come back again to
• 36:38
  Speaker 9: take from the familiar earth my hoarded secret and count
• 36:42
  Speaker 9: its worth. And all the spider work of the years,
• 36:46
  Speaker 9: all the time spun gossamers dewed with each succeeding spring,
• 36:52
  Speaker 9: and the piled up leaves, the autumns, fling to the
• 36:54
  Speaker 9: sweet corruption of death on death, at the sudden stir
• 36:59
  Speaker 9: of my my spirit's breath, all scattered, new and fair
• 37:03
  Speaker 9: and bright as ever it was before my sight, the
• 37:06
  Speaker 9: treasure lay and nothing missed. So having handled all and kissed,
• 37:12
  Speaker 9: I put them back, adding one new and precious memory.
• 37:17
  Speaker 4: Of you.
• 37:20
  Speaker 9: And the poem. This recording is in the public domain.
• 37:30
  Speaker 9: Fragment from the Burning Wheel by Aldus Huxley read for
• 37:35
  Speaker 9: LibriVox dot Org by Winston Tharp. We're German scholars pouring
• 37:43
  Speaker 9: over life, as over a Greek manuscript that's torn and
• 37:46
  Speaker 9: stained beyond repair. Our eyes of horn read one or
• 37:51
  Speaker 9: two poor letters, and what strife, what books on books
• 37:56
  Speaker 9: begotten for their sake, But we enjoy it and meanwhile
• 38:00
  Speaker 9: neglect the line that's left us perfect from the wrecked,
• 38:03
  Speaker 9: rich argacy, clear beyond doubts to make conjectures of so
• 38:10
  Speaker 9: in my universe have scribbled half hidd meanings. You appear sole,
• 38:15
  Speaker 9: perfect symbol of the highest sphere, and life's great matrix, crystal,
• 38:20
  Speaker 9: whose depths nurse soul's infinite reflections glows in you with
• 38:26
  Speaker 9: now uncertain radiance, and the poem. This recording is in
• 38:35
  Speaker 9: the public domain.
• 38:42
  Speaker 1: The Walk from the Burning Wheel by Aldus Huxley, read
• 38:46
  Speaker 1: for LibriVox dot Org by Larry Wilson.
• 38:50
  Speaker 4: He read by algiepag.
• 38:52
  Speaker 1: She read by Israel, narrated by Larry Wilson. One through
• 39:00
  Speaker 1: the suburbs, Provincial Sunday broods above the town, the streets asleep.
• 39:08
  Speaker 1: Through a dim window drifts a small romance that hiccups
• 39:12
  Speaker 1: up and down and air all trills and runs and
• 39:16
  Speaker 1: sudden lifts to yearning sevenths, poised not as chopin quite,
• 39:22
  Speaker 1: but oh romantic, a tinsel world made bright with rose
• 39:27
  Speaker 1: and honeysuckles, paper blooms, and where the moon's blue limelight
• 39:32
  Speaker 1: and the glooms of last act scenes of passion are discreet.
• 39:37
  Speaker 1: And when the tinkling stops and leaves the street blank
• 39:41
  Speaker 1: in the sunlight of the afternoon, you feel a curtain dropped,
• 39:46
  Speaker 1: poor little tune. Perhaps our grandmother's dull girlhood days were
• 39:51
  Speaker 1: fired by you with radiances of pink, heavenly righter far
• 39:56
  Speaker 1: than she could think anything might be, till a greater
• 39:59
  Speaker 1: blaze tinged life's horizon when he kissed her first, our grandpapa.
• 40:06
  Speaker 1: But a thin ghost still plays in music down the street,
• 40:10
  Speaker 1: echoing the plaint of far romance with its own sadder
• 40:13
  Speaker 1: song of every day. And as they walk along, the
• 40:18
  Speaker 1: young man and the woman deep immersed in all the
• 40:22
  Speaker 1: suburb comedy around, they seem to catch coherence in the
• 40:26
  Speaker 1: sound of that ghost music, and the words come faint.
• 40:31
  Speaker 1: Oh the months and the days, Oh sleeps and dinners,
• 40:35
  Speaker 1: Oh the planning of ways and quotidian means. Oh endless
• 40:39
  Speaker 1: vistas of mutton and greens. O weekly memblings of prayers
• 40:43
  Speaker 1: and praise, Oh evenings with all the winners. Monday sends
• 40:49
  Speaker 1: the clothes to the wash, and Saturday brings them home again.
• 40:53
  Speaker 1: Mon dieu, la Ville, Patrolmosche and destiny is us all caboche.
• 40:59
  Speaker 1: But I'll give you heaven in a dominant seven, and
• 41:02
  Speaker 1: you shall not have lived in vain. In vain, the
• 41:07
  Speaker 1: girl repeats, In vain. Your suburb's whole philosophy leads there
• 41:12
  Speaker 1: the ox stall for our happiness, for pain poignant and sweet,
• 41:17
  Speaker 1: the dull, narcotic ache of wretchedness, and in resigned to
• 41:20
  Speaker 1: spare a grim contentment, ashen fruits, to slake a nameless,
• 41:26
  Speaker 1: quenchless thirst. The tinkling rain of that small, sentimental music
• 41:32
  Speaker 1: wets your parching suburb. It may sprout, who knows, in
• 41:37
  Speaker 1: something red and silken, like a rose, in sheaves of
• 41:41
  Speaker 1: almost genuine violets. Faint cords your sadness. Secular immense brims
• 41:47
  Speaker 1: to the bursting this poor actual heart for surging through
• 41:51
  Speaker 1: the floodgates. That sense of sudden, lightly open, sweeps the
• 41:55
  Speaker 1: whole into the narrow compass of its part.
• 41:58
  Speaker 4: In editence, in shape of the soul you'd have us.
• 42:02
  Speaker 4: Bless the higher purchase system, which now allows the poorest
• 42:06
  Speaker 4: vampers to feel as they abuse that piano's dampers, that
• 42:10
  Speaker 4: angels have stooped down and kissed them with ave marias
• 42:13
  Speaker 4: from the infinite. But poor old Infinite's dead. Long live
• 42:18
  Speaker 4: his heir lord here and now for all the rest
• 42:22
  Speaker 4: is windy nothingness, or at the best homemade chimera, bodied
• 42:27
  Speaker 4: with despair, headed with formless, foolish hope.
• 42:32
  Speaker 10: No no, we'll live in verse for all things rhyme,
• 42:35
  Speaker 10: with something out of space and time.
• 42:37
  Speaker 4: But in the suburb here life needs must flow in
• 42:41
  Speaker 4: journalistic prose.
• 42:43
  Speaker 10: But we have set our faces towards the further hills,
• 42:46
  Speaker 10: where yet the winds untainted and unbounds, may.
• 42:49
  Speaker 1: Blow two from the crest, sold through the squalor, till
• 42:54
  Speaker 1: the sky unfalls to night, and left its fringes penned
• 42:58
  Speaker 1: no more a thin canal TwixT shore and ugly shore
• 43:03
  Speaker 1: of hovels poured contiguous from the molds of Gothic horror.
• 43:08
  Speaker 1: Town is left at last, save for the tentacles that
• 43:11
  Speaker 1: probe a squat dun house or two allotments.
• 43:16
  Speaker 9: Plot on plot of cabbage to.
• 43:18
  Speaker 1: June ripe or past checkering.
• 43:21
  Speaker 9: With sick yellow or verdigrease.
• 43:23
  Speaker 1: The metropolitan ground and neat paved ways that edge the
• 43:27
  Speaker 1: road the town's last nerves, and cease, as if in
• 43:33
  Speaker 1: sudden shame, where hedges raise their dusty greenery on either hand.
• 43:38
  Speaker 1: Their path mounts slowly up the hill, and as they
• 43:42
  Speaker 1: walk to right and left expand the plain and the
• 43:46
  Speaker 1: golden uplands, and the blue faint smoke of distances that
• 43:50
  Speaker 1: fade from view, and at their feet, remote and still
• 43:55
  Speaker 1: the city spreads itself.
• 43:57
  Speaker 4: That glabrous dome that lifts its shelf so grand. There
• 44:02
  Speaker 4: in the mariish is the Omphilus, the navel umbo middle
• 44:07
  Speaker 4: central boss of the unique soul, true cloud, cuckoo land,
• 44:13
  Speaker 4: drowsy with Sunday bells and Sunday beer, a foam in
• 44:17
  Speaker 4: silver rumpkins. There it basks, thinking of Labour's past and
• 44:22
  Speaker 4: future tasks. And pondering on the end, for ever near
• 44:27
  Speaker 4: yet ever distant as the rainbow spring. For still in
• 44:31
  Speaker 4: cuckoo Land, they're laboring with hopes, undamped and undiscouraged hearts,
• 44:37
  Speaker 4: a little musty but superb. They sit piecing a God
• 44:42
  Speaker 4: together bit by bit out of the chaos of his
• 44:45
  Speaker 4: sundered parts. Unmoved, nay pitying, they view the grins and
• 44:51
  Speaker 4: lewd grimaces of the folk that jeer the vulgar herd,
• 44:56
  Speaker 4: gross monster at the best obscenum mobile, the uttermost sphere,
• 45:02
  Speaker 4: alas too much the mover of the rest, though they
• 45:06
  Speaker 4: turn sungates to its widditions, and in some half million years,
• 45:11
  Speaker 4: perhaps God may at last be made a new true
• 45:16
  Speaker 4: pan an isis templed in the soul of Man. An
• 45:20
  Speaker 4: Aphrodite with her thousand paps streaming eternal wisdom. Yes, and
• 45:26
  Speaker 4: Man's vessel, all pavilion'd out with silk and flags in
• 45:30
  Speaker 4: the fair wind stream, shall make the port at last
• 45:34
  Speaker 4: with a great shout, ringing from all her decks and rocking.
• 45:38
  Speaker 4: There shall dream for ever and dream true calm in
• 45:43
  Speaker 4: those roads, as lovers souls at evening, when they swim
• 45:47
  Speaker 4: between the despairing sunset and the dim blue memories of
• 45:50
  Speaker 4: mountains lost to sight, but like half fancied, half remember'd
• 45:56
  Speaker 4: episodes of childhood, guessed at through the vales of night,
• 46:01
  Speaker 4: And the worn sailors at the mast who heard the
• 46:04
  Speaker 4: first fire bells and knew the sound for home, who
• 46:08
  Speaker 4: marked the land weeds and the sand stained foam, and
• 46:12
  Speaker 4: through the storm blast saw a wildered bird seek refuge
• 46:16
  Speaker 4: at the masthead. These at last shall earnd praise. When
• 46:21
  Speaker 4: all the hubbubs passed, and cuckoo landers, not a few
• 46:25
  Speaker 4: shall prove you.
• 46:27
  Speaker 10: Have fast closed the temple gates. You have fast closed
• 46:31
  Speaker 10: the temple gates. You stand without in the noontide's glow,
• 46:35
  Speaker 10: But the innermost darkness were guard waits. You do not snow,
• 46:40
  Speaker 10: You cannot snow.
• 46:44
  Speaker 1: End of poem. This recording is in the public domain.
• 46:49
  Speaker 1: End of the Burning Wheel by Aldous Huxley.