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 Of man. Upon its crest were gems and gold, Rare fabrics, and the woof of humble looms. Harvests and groves and battlements were made Part of its ramparts, and the whole was drenched With oil and wine and honey. Then thereon Men bound their sons, the fair, alert and strong, Sparing no household. And when all were bound, Brands were brought forth: the mount became a pyre. Black from that red immensity of flame, A tower of smoke, upcoiling to the sky, Was shapen by the winds, and took the form Of him who in the stithy gave command. A shadow between day and men he stood; His eyes looked forth on nothingness; his wings Domed desolations, and the scarlet sun Glowed through their darkness like a seal that God Might set on Hell forever. Then the pyre Shrank, and he reeled. Whereat, to save that shape Their madness had evoked in death and pain, Men rose and made a second sacrifice.

Sartor Resartus

(See pages 31, 74. 133, 488)

What, speaking in quite unofficial language, is the net-purport and upshot of war? To my own knowledge, for example, there dwell and toil, in the British village of Dumdrudge, usually some five hundred souls. From these, by certain "Natural Enemies" of the French, there are successfully selected, during the