Quare fremuerunt gentes.

Wherefore are bruyt, and assemble the people?
What folly to whisper the meine?
Wherefore are both diligent people
In addition mectre vain business?

Bandage were great kings of the earth,
And Primates have well as alleged
Conspiring, and want to make war
Wholes against God, and his well-beloved Roy.

Disants between eulx desrompons, and are breaking
Lyens the wholes which we pretend Iyer:
Loing to us jectons, & mesprisons

Beatus vir that not abiit.

That the Council has Malings este,
Which is the trac fishermen arreste,
Whom mocqueurs bench has taken up:
But night the, & date, Loy contemplates & decision
Of the Lord, and is desirous:
Cestuy there is certainly happy.

And so will be similar to the shrub
Planted along ung clear running stream,
And its fruict in its season brings,
Which also fueille not dead hook:

At the dim head of the long winding stair
She waited, doubtful; the one gas-light's flare
Left the dusk round her shadowy and astir,
But outlined her
Sharply above him. As that flame
Touched into life her unforgotten face,
He paused, and could not speak her name.
And she from her high place
Looked down, and knew him, — silent a moment's space, —
And then swiftly she cried —
" Why did you ring? Come, wanderer, inside,
And see my wonderful rooms! — wonderful they were to be,
But some inertia has laid hold of me

BOOK IV

" O FAIR young face, " a voice began aloof
When, dark, the Roamer woke, " how few there be
That pass this limit with such lips as thine,
An-hungered and athirst! " and nigh him rose
An old man's form against the doubtful sky.
Flowers of the desert held he in his hand,
Slight, grass-like spears that bore a bloom minute,
Whereof he seemed to proffer flower and stem.
" Take, eat, " he said, " the food the waste provides. "
The wondering Roamer pressed them to his lips,

BOOK III

" O Sleep , the kindest helper of the soul,
Who, when night comes, dost draw more nigh than night,
And when thou goest, bringest back the day!
O first, sweet silence 'twixt the solemn prayers
Of eve and morn, how many peaceful hours
My hands in thine were folded, when a child!
And thou wast dearer with each heavy year,
And tenderer for the sorrow come, more soft
My head didst pillow, gavest my soul release! "
So rose the Roamer's morning orison;
And never more refreshed from thee he turned

Book II

" Is the earth heavier for the corpse that lies,
Or lighter for the spirit flown away,
That she has fixed so deep the lust of life? "
The Roamer heard; and as from tides of night
Earth seemed emerging round him; the white moon
Lifted the low hills from the raven shade;
And like the eternal deluge petrified
In heaven-shouldering billows, the black Range
Bore up the snowy threshold of the stars;
His soul yet felt its dread, his heart its chill.
That one who had renewed his pain stood nigh

BOOK I

Harken , O outcast Race, to man outcast,
Into the desert driven in his youth
To lead, though mortal, the eternal life!
Once more know him, the child of earth gone forth,
In whom the spirit wakens uncontrolled,
Insatiate hope, unconquerable will!
Now over-seas he bears the human fates;
He opens mighty lands; he lieth down
In the waste places. Harken to his voice,
In this world's wilderness his living cry,
The soul of man, heard now in this new verse!
In me he is the passion perilous;

The intelligence running the streets. She ran after stupidity. They had leg holders towels passersby, who are duped of belief, dyspeptic ministers, teachers feel great person the son of their works, the lame to mediate knowledge, thinkers who repeat the evening meal , women of the world who believe only their caste, theater, the Virgin and ideas, all Zozos any adult Rose Library, all educated fools who run the world.

It was then that the incident occurred which made us know. I was there.

He said he had no time, he had his car door, a field kitchen crowded the whole day, its bloody night incubator eggs, ladies conquered by eating food negroes The trip from hell in the salt marsh of the day, the silence of the old house still asleep found every morning, the rattle of the concierge in the box, the start of an alarm clock behind a foreign carrier; its open room where the blind slat, life garden begins, and the flap of the day and bird necklaces down on his bed shortage; outfits dairy tinkle on the stairs, the earth out of its cocoon, the clocks are overwhelmed, the bells begin to