Cry out, for his kingdom is shaken; cry out, for the people
blaspheme;
Cry aloud till his godhead awaken; what doth he to sleep and
to dream?
Is not this the great God of your sires, that with souls and with
bodies was fed,
And the world was on flame with his fires? O fools, he was God,
and is dead.
ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE: Hymn of Man.
Le silence éternel de ces espaces infinis m'effraie.—PASCAL: Pensées.
And that inverted Bowl we call the Sky,
Whereunder crawling coop't we live and die,
Lift not thy hands to It for help—for It
Rolls impotently on as Thou or I.
OMAR KHAYYÁM.
(1)
Ursula Manning stared out at the rods of rain. Chanctonbury Ring was all but blotted out; she could just see the crown of beeches when the mists were blown aside for a few moments, and that was all. The woods below stood heavy and motionless, and the fields between them and the cottage lay stretched out, drinking it in. It had been a hot dry summer, and the whole world was rejoicing in the rain. That decided Ursula. She turned back into the bedroom, opened a wardrobe, and took out an old tweed skirt and jumper. Then she took off most of her clothes and assumed these. She let down her hair, twisted it into a long black plait, tied it firmly, and swung the heavy mass over her shoulder with a defiant jerk. Then, bareheaded, she went downstairs humming a little song, and selected a stick in the hall. She looked about eighteen, dressed so.
Her mother came out of the sitting-room. "Ursula," she cried, "you're not going out!"
"Yes, mother, I am. Why not? The rain's heavenly, and the woods have spread out their hands to it. And I want to get soaked."
The elder lady stood irresolute, a ludicrous expression of dismay in her face. The girl looked at her and laughed. "Oh, mother," she cried, "say it if it's any help!"
Mrs. Manning, at that, smiled ruefully. "Ursula," she said, "it's all very well, but you are trying. You'll probably catch your death of cold."
Ursula opened the door and stepped into the porch. She looked up into the leaden sky and down at the runnels of water on either side of the little garden path to the gate. Then she glanced back at her mother, smiled at her, waved her hand, and stepped into the downpour without a word.