To make way for much meaner than we can160

Surmise; for moments only and the space

Have been and must be all unchangeable.

But changes make not death, except to clay;

But thou art clay—and canst but comprehend

That which was clay, and such thou shall behold.

Cain. Clay—Spirit—what thou wilt—I can survey.

Lucifer. Away, then!

Cain.‍But the lights fade from me fast,

And some till now grew larger as we approached,