ever toiling to the High, ever grasping at the Far?"

Heaven answered not the unquiet soul. The clouds passed to and fro in
their wanderings, the wind still sighed through the hollow stones, the
fire shot with vain sparks towards the distant stars. In the cloud
and the wind and the fire couldst thou read no answer from Heaven,
unquiet soul?

The next day, with a gallant company, the falcon on his wrist [186],
the sprightly hound gamboling before his steed, blithe of heart and
high in hope, Earl Harold took his way to the Norman court.