Is soft too.
Only God can save him now.
Be Thou about his bed, about his path!
His path! Where 's England's path? Diverging wide,
And not to join again the track my foot
Must follow—whither? All that forlorn way
Among the tombs! Far—far—till ... What, they do
Then join again, these paths? For, huge in the dusk,
There 's—Pym to face!
Why then, I have a foe