Presently, to my listless roving gaze, the varied outlines of the clumpy foliage began to assume or imitate--say rather SUGGEST other shapes than their own.

A light wind began to blow; it set the boughs of a neighbour tree rocking, and all their branches aswing, every twig and every leaf blending its individual motion with the sway of its branch and the rock of its bough.

Among its leafy shapes was a pack of wolves that struggled to break from a wizard's leash: greyhounds would not have strained so savagely! I watched them with an interest that grew as the wind gathered force, and their motions life.
Another mass of foliage, larger and more compact, presented my fancy with a group of horses' heads and forequarters projecting caparisoned from their stalls.

Their necks kept moving up and down, with an impatience that augmented as the growing wind broke their vertical rhythm with a wilder swaying from side to side.

What heads they were! how gaunt, how strange!--several of them bare skulls--one with the skin tight on its bones! One had lost the under jaw and hung low, looking unutterably weary--but now and then hove high as if to ease the bit.
Above them, at the end of a branch, floated erect the form of a woman, waving her arms in imperious gesture.