Then something broke the peace. Like wind it was, the flutter of rising wind, But then it grew until it was the rushing Of winged stallions, distant and terrible, Trampling beyond the sky. The hissing charge Of lightless armies of angelic horse Galloping down the stars. There were no words In that implacable and feathery thunder, And yet there must have been, or Ellyat’s mind Caught them like broken arrows out of the air.

Thirteen sisters beside the sea, (Have a care, my son.) Builded a house called Liberty And locked the doors with a stately key. None should enter it but the free. (Have a care, my son.)