If it has been determined otherwise.


IV

Behold, my friends, there is reserved for me
The splendour of our traffic with the sky:
You pay your court to Saturn, whereas I
Am slain by One far mightier than he.


V

You that must travel with a weary load
Along this darkling, labyrinthine street--
Have men with torches at your head and feet
If you would pass the dangers of the road.


VI

So shall you find all armour incomplete
And open to the whips of circumstance,
That so shall you be girdled of mischance
Till you be folded in the winding-sheet.


VII

Have conversation with the wind that goes