For I dipped into the future, far as human eye could see, Saw the Vision of the world, and all the wonder that would be.

O hark,O hear! how thin and clear And thinner, clearer, farther going! O sweet and far from cliff and scar The horns of Elfland faintly blowing! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying: Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.

Mastering the lawless science of our law,- that codeless myriad of precedent, that wilderness of single instances.

Man is the hunter; women are the game; those sleek and shining creatures of the chase. We hunt them for the beauty of their skins; they love us for it, and we ride them down.

I heard no longer The snowy-banded, dilettante, Delicate-handed priest intone.

My mind is clouded with a doubt.

Tis not too late to seek a newer world.