"Mary is there," he moaned, "and I am outward bound.
"I never saw this place so beautiful,
Never like this. I never saw it glow.
Spirit is on this place; it fills it full.
So let the die be cast; I will not go.
But I will see her face to face and know
From her own lips what thoughts she has of me;
And if disaster come: right; let disaster be."
Back, by another way, he turned. The sun
Fired the yew-tops in the Roman woods.