And for a moment, could see this, and see them so And, being free, stand alone, and so being free To love or hate, do neither, but merely stand Above them like sleep and see them with untouched eyes. In a while they would wake, and he would hate them again. But now he was asleep. He was the sun on the coat Of the halted fawn at the green edge of the wood Staring at morning. He could not hate them yet.

Somebody near by, in the woods, took a heap of dry sticks, And began to break them quickly, first one by one, Then a dozen together, then hard-cracking axe-helves breaking. Ellyat was running. His mouth felt stiff with loud words Though he heard no sound from his mouth. He could see the white Fine pine-splinters flying from those invisible axe-helves.⁠ ⁠…