The Prayer Of Ajax Was For Light.

The Twilight That Surrounds The Border-land Of Old Romance.

It Was Autumn, And Incessant Piped The Quails From Shocks And Sheaves, And, Like Living Coals, The Apples Burned Among The Withering Leaves.

The Heart, Like The Mind, Has A Memory. And In It Are Kept The Most Precious Keepsakes.

With Useless Endeavour Forever, Forever, Is Sisyphus Rolling His Stone Up The Mountain!

And As She Looked Around, She Saw How Death The Consoler, Laying His Hand Upon Many A Heart, Had Healed It Forever.