"THE YEWS
(rustling) She is right, our sister. Whisper. (Whispered kisses are heard in all the wood. Faces of hamadryads peep out from the boles and among the leaves and break, blossoming into bloom.) Who profaned our silent shade?"
(U15.3339)
Email: [email protected]
- with questions, comments,
suggestions, or corrections
- for permission to use an image
- if you would like a paper copy of
a map, or a paper stereoviewer