“Difference. They were lonely. They had nothing
Past them to compare. They do not move,
These persons, among greater persons still.
The knowledge of the difference is all.
Mortals with art to measure it are never
Pitiful.”
“I thought,” mused Aphrodite,
Beautiful by night as her own star,
Her morning’s mirror, up now in the east,
“I thought I met a presence in that musty