Fear stuffed the empty space ahead with devils and the shapes of dread
That decked our church. A ghastly rush of loneliness made every head
Feel like a pinpoint. Discontent ran through the score of nations blent
In cries. Their ribald spokesman forced a drunkard's way to Godfrey's tent:
You that have led us through the many tests
Of Hungary, King Caloman, and Thrace,
Who think of kingdoms as of palimpsests
And human nature as a carapace,
Go up and prosper in your lofty chase!
We cannot live on barren mountain-crests.