The mountain mist, which Blacks had thought the souls of bygone men, Came closing in, with swirls of rain. Mark O’Connor. | THE OLD PROVERBIAL RECOVERY

The house of envy lies in the lowest hollows, golden, sunless, breathed upon by no wind, grim and filled full of inert chill, and lacking warmth, is always roiled in fog.

Source: The mountain mist, which Blacks had thought the souls of bygone men, Came closing in, with swirls of rain. Mark O’Connor. | THE OLD PROVERBIAL RECOVERY

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