8

No bird was moving here. Against the wall

Out of the unscythed grass the nettle grew.

The doors stood open wide, but no footfall

Rang in the colonnades. Whispering through

Arches and hollow halls the light wind blew....

His awe returned. He whistled—then, no more,

It’s better to plunge in by the first door.

9

But then the vastness threw him into doubt.