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RHYS LEWIS. 22 s
efifulgent face of an angel. The light increased, more and
more; and yet it did not come through the window. It seemed
to be all within the room ; eyery object in which had now
become visible. Still did the light increase, and so sweet wag
it that my eyes became restful and enjoyed the sight. Was I
dreaming ? I am not certain ; only I believe I was awake — as
wide awake as I am at the present moment. The light reached
a climax of a kind whereof I cannot convej'- on paper any idea.
I never in my life saw anything I could fitly compare to it.
Before me in the midst of that brilliant but subdued glory
I saw my mother, sitting in a chair, not one belonging to the
room, but the old oak arm-chair she used to sit in at home. I
did not notice the kind of dress she wore, for I looked only at
her face, which, although it retained all its old peculiarities,
was lovelier a thousand times than I had ever known it. I
was not afraid, but I felt a guilty consciousness. Mother
looked neither angry nor happy. " Come hither," she com-
manded. I sprang out of bed and fell upon my knees before
her and, with my cheeks between my hands, rested my head
upon her knees, as I used to do when a child saying my
prayers before going to bed.
"My son," I heard her say; "I spoke to you of three
enemies, and of the armour. But, after all the trouble I took
with you, I fear you have no religion, and that you know
nothing of the great things."
She disappeared before I could say a word in reply. I
felt my forehead growing cold upon one of Abel Hughes's
chairs. Jumping to my feet I found the day dawning. Was
it a dream ? I do not know. But, God be thanked, I never
forgot those words of my mother !
efifulgent face of an angel. The light increased, more and
more; and yet it did not come through the window. It seemed
to be all within the room ; eyery object in which had now
become visible. Still did the light increase, and so sweet wag
it that my eyes became restful and enjoyed the sight. Was I
dreaming ? I am not certain ; only I believe I was awake — as
wide awake as I am at the present moment. The light reached
a climax of a kind whereof I cannot convej'- on paper any idea.
I never in my life saw anything I could fitly compare to it.
Before me in the midst of that brilliant but subdued glory
I saw my mother, sitting in a chair, not one belonging to the
room, but the old oak arm-chair she used to sit in at home. I
did not notice the kind of dress she wore, for I looked only at
her face, which, although it retained all its old peculiarities,
was lovelier a thousand times than I had ever known it. I
was not afraid, but I felt a guilty consciousness. Mother
looked neither angry nor happy. " Come hither," she com-
manded. I sprang out of bed and fell upon my knees before
her and, with my cheeks between my hands, rested my head
upon her knees, as I used to do when a child saying my
prayers before going to bed.
"My son," I heard her say; "I spoke to you of three
enemies, and of the armour. But, after all the trouble I took
with you, I fear you have no religion, and that you know
nothing of the great things."
She disappeared before I could say a word in reply. I
felt my forehead growing cold upon one of Abel Hughes's
chairs. Jumping to my feet I found the day dawning. Was
it a dream ? I do not know. But, God be thanked, I never
forgot those words of my mother !
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Early Gaelic Book Collections > Blair Collection > Rhys Lewis, minister of Bethel > (233) |
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Permanent URL | https://digital.nls.uk/76374450 |
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Description | A selection of books from a collection of more than 500 titles, mostly on religious and literary topics. Also includes some material dealing with other Celtic languages and societies. Collection created towards the end of the 19th century by Lady Evelyn Stewart Murray. |
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Description | Selected items from five 'Special and Named Printed Collections'. Includes books in Gaelic and other Celtic languages, works about the Gaels, their languages, literature, culture and history. |
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