Muttered Henry:—Lord of matter, thus:

upon some more unquiet spirit knock,

my madnesses have cease.

All the quarter astonishes a lonely out & back.

They set their clocks by Henry House,

the steadiest man on the block.

And Lucifer:—I smell you for my own,

by smug.—What have I tossed you but the least

(tho’ hard); fit for your ears.

Your servant, bored with horror, sat alone

with busy teeth while his dislike increased

unto himself, in tears.

And he:—O promising despair,

in solitude— —End there.

Your avenues are dying: leave me: I dove

under the oaken arms of Brother Martin,

St Simeon the Lesser Theologian,

Bodhidharma, and Baal Shem Tov.