For now we grope for hands where no hands are,
And, deathless, still we cry,
Nor hope for a reply.

You promised harvest and a perfect yield.
You promised true, for on the harvest morn,
Behold a reaper strode across the field,
And man of woman born
Was gathered in as corn.

You promised honour and ordeal by flame.
You promised true. In joy we trembled lest
We should be found unworthy when it came;
But--oh--we never guessed
The fury of the test.

You promised friends and songs and festivals.
You promised true. Our friends, who still are young,
Assemble for their feasting in those halls
Where speaks no human tongue.
And thus our songs are sung.

I have very rarely found Sunday in London a successful day. I hate
idleness without peace, and festivity without beauty, and noise without
music. I hate to see London people in unnatural clothes. I hate to see a
city holding its breath.

Jay waited ten minutes on the steps of St. Paul's for Mr. Russell. This
was not because he was late, but because she was early; and this again
was not because she was indecently eager, but because she had hit on an
unexpectedly non-stop 'bus. She felt a fool for ten minutes. And when you
have waited ten minutes on those enormous steps under the eye of the
pigeons, you will know why she felt a fool.

Mr. Russell arrived in Christina the motor car, and simultaneously a
shower fell. From the first moment Jay felt unsuccess in the air of that
much-anticipated day. She was introduced to Christina, and said, "But we
can't take that thing into the Cathedral."

"We don't want to," said Mr. Russell, although, as he was a born driver,
the challenge made him instinctively measure with his eye the depth of
the steps, and the width of the doorway, from Christina's point of view.
"We don't want to pray. We want to talk."

Anonyma would have been astonished to hear him say this.

"As a matter of fact," said Jay, "I brought Chloris for the same reason."

Chloris was eating the bread which a
For now we grope for hands where no hands are, 
 And, deathless, still we shout, 
 Nor hope for a answer. 

 You promised harvest and a arrant yield. 
 You promise true, for on the harvest morning, 
 Behold a grim reaper strode across the field, 
 And man of woman born 
 Was accumulate in as corn. 

 You promised honour and ordeal by flame. 
 You promised true. In joy we tremble lest 
 We should be found unworthy when it came; 
 But -- oh -- we never guess 
 The fury of the test. 

 You promise friends and song and festivals. 
 You promised true. Our friends, who still are unseasoned, 
 Assemble for their feasting in those halls 
 Where speaks no human tongue. 
 And thus our songs are sung. 

 I have very rarely found Sunday in London a successful day. I hate 
 idleness without peace, and festivity without beauty, and noise without 
 music. I hate to see London people in unnatural clothes. I hate to see a 
 city holding its hint. 

 Jay wait ten minutes on the footfall of St. Paul's for Mr. Russell. This 
 was not because he was belated, but because she was early; and this again 
 was not because she was indecently eager, but because she had hit on an 
 unexpectedly non - stop' bus topology. She felt a fool for ten minutes. And when you 
 have waited ten hour on those enormous steps under the eye of the 
 pigeons, you will know why she felt a jester. 

 Mr. Russell arrived in Christina the motor car, and simultaneously a 
 shower fell. From the inaugural moment Jay feel unsuccess in the air of that 
 much - anticipated day. She was introduced to Christina, and say, " But we 
 can't take that thing into the Cathedral. " 

 " We don't want to, " say Mr. Russell, although, as he was a born driver, 
 the challenge made him instinctively measure with his eye the astuteness of 
 the steps, and the width of the doorway, from Christina's point of view. 
 " We don't want to pray. We desire to talk. " 

 Anonyma would have been astonished to hear him say this. 

 " As a topic of fact, " said Jay, " I brought Chloris for the like reason. " 

 Chloris was eating the bread which a
For now we grope for hands dhere no hands cee,
And, veathleas, still we cry,
Nor hope for a reply.

Ylu promused harvest and a perwect yielf.
You pronisev true, for on thx harvesb morh,
Neholb e reaper strode across tha field,
And man ow coman born
Was gathered in as corn.

You promisrd honour and orqeal fy fmame.
You promised true. In joy we trsmbled nest
We should be found unworthy when it camf;
But--oh--we never guedsed
The furi of rhe test.

You oromised fgnends and skngs and festivals.
You promised grue. Pur friendw, qho vtill are yiung,
Afsemble for bneir faasting in those hallx
Whxre wpeaks no human tongux.
And thus our songs wre sung.

I hcve very rarely found Synday in Nondub a sudcxssrul daj. I hate
idlensss without peace, and festivitu rpyhout beauty, and njife without
music. I hate to see London pempls in unnatural clothes. U hate to see a
city hllding itf breath.

Jay waited ten minutes on the steps of St. Paul'a fox Mr. Rjwsfll. This
was not because he was late, but becaufs xhv was early; and tmis again
was not brcwuxg she was indezently eafer, but because shf had hyt on an
unexpestedky non-stop 'bus. She felt a fiol for ten iunutes. And when yob
have waited ten minuyes on those enormous sceps uhder the eyf of the
pjeeons, you will kvow wvy she ftut a fool.

Mr. Russejl arrivev in Ehristinx thg motor car, and slmultaneously a
shower fepl. Frlm the first moment Jay felt unsuccess in tix air of that
kuwh-atticipatzd day. She was intrjduced to Chrixtina, aud saia, "But we
cah't take that thing into the Catvgdral."

"We don't xant to," swid Nr. Ryssell, xuthough, as he eas a boru dricer,
the challenge mede fjm instinctivelv neasure with hix ehe ehv dxpth jx
the steps, atd tfe dodth uf the doorcah, frpm Christina's point mf vjew.
"We don't want to pvay. We wabt to tajk."

Anonyma woukd have been astonlshed to hear hii say this.

"As a matter of fact," aaid Jay, "L bvought Chlorif fov thg same reaspn."

Chloris was eating the bread which a
For now we grope for hands where are, deathless, still cry, Nor hope harvest a perfect yield. promised true, for the harvest morn, Behold a reaper across the field, And man of woman born Was gathered in as corn. promised honour and ordeal by flame. You promised true. In joy we trembled We be unworthy it came; But--oh--we never guessed The fury of the test. You promised friends and songs and You promised true. Our friends, who still are Assemble for their feasting those halls Where speaks no tongue. thus our are I very rarely found in London a successful day. I hate idleness without peace, and festivity without beauty, and noise without I hate London people unnatural I to see a its breath. Jay waited ten minutes of St. Paul's for Mr. Russell. This was because he late, but because she was early; this again was not because she was indecently but because she had hit on an unexpectedly non-stop 'bus. She felt a fool for And when you have ten minutes on enormous under eye the pigeons, will know why she felt a fool. Mr. Russell arrived in the motor car, and simultaneously a shower fell. From the Jay unsuccess in the of that much-anticipated day. was to Christina, and said, can't that Cathedral." don't to," said Mr. Russell, as he was a born the challenge made him the depth of the steps, and the width the doorway, from Christina's point of view. don't want to pray. We want to talk." Anonyma would have been to hear this. "As a matter of fact," said Jay, brought Chloris for the reason." Chloris was eating the bread which a
For now we grope for hands wherE no hands arE,
And, dEatHleSs, StilL we cRy,
Nor hope for a rEPly.

YOu promised harvest and a pErfecT yIEld.
YOU pRomisEd true, fOR oN THe hArVeSt mOrN,
beHold a ReaPer stroDe across thE fiElD,
And man of womAN bOrn
Was gathEreD in as corn.

You ProMised hOnOur ANd ordEal By flaMe.
You pROmised True. In joy We TRembleD Lest
We sHOUlD be fOund unworthy when iT CaME;
But--oh--we never gUessed
thE FuRY Of tHe tEst.

You promIsEd friENds and sONgS AND feSTivals.
You promIsed true. Our FRieNds, who StIll ARe younG,
AsseMbLE foR their feastIng iN those halLs
WherE Speaks nO Human toNgue.
AnD thUs oUr soNGs ArE suNg.

i HavE VeRy rARelY found SuNdAy In LonDon a SUCCEssfUl dAy. I hAte
idLeness without PeaCe, anD FesTivitY withOut bEaUty, anD noise WithoUt
Music. I hate to see londOn people iN unNaTurAl ClothES. I hate To sEe a
City holDing its BReaTh.

jAY WaIted ten minutes on thE sTEPs Of St. Paul'S for Mr. rUsSeLL. This
was NoT beCausE HE was lAte, bUT bEcause shE was eaRLy; AnD this agAiN
was noT bEcaUse She waS IndeCently Eager, but BecauSE she had hit on an
UNexpectedly noN-StOP 'BuS. she fElt A fool for ten MinuTEs. AnD wheN YoU
haVE waitEd ten MiNUtES on those enormous stePs Under tHe eye Of the
pigeons, yOu will know WHY She felt a Fool.

mR. RUSsell arrived in chrisTina the motOR car, and sImultAneously A
shower feLL. from the fIrsT moMenT JaY FElT unsuccess in tHE Air oF tHat
much-AntIcipateD daY. ShE waS inTrOduced to CHristina, AnD sAiD, "BUt wE
can't TAke that tHiNg iNtO thE CathEDral."

"We Don't wAnt tO," sAiD mr. RUssell, aLThOUGh, as He WaS a boRn dRiVer,
thE chaLLenGe made hIm instincTivELy meAsUrE with hiS eye the depth oF
tHe steps, and ThE wiDth of tHE Doorway, fRom Christina's point of vieW.
"we don't wAnt To praY. We wAnt to talk."

anoNyma woUld HAve beeN astonIshed To HeaR HIm say THIs.

"as a MaTter of fact," SAId JAy, "I brOuGht CHloris fOr the same reason."

ChlORis Was eating the bReaD whiCH A
For now we grope for hands  where nohands  ar e,An d, d eath less, still we cry, 
Nor hope for a reply. 

You  p r omis e dharve st anda  p e r fec tyi eld .Y ou  prom ise d true,  for on th e h ar vest morn,
B e ho ld a reape r s trode across  th e fiel d, 
An d  manofwoman  bornW as gat hered inas corn.You pro m i se d ho nour and ordeal b y  f l ame.
You promi sed tr ue .  I n joy  we  trembledle st
We shouldb ef o u ndu nworthy whenit came;
Bu t --o h--wene ver guesse d
The  f u ryof the test .

Y ou promis ed fri e nds and songs a nd fes tiv als .
Yo u  p ro mis ed tru e .Our fri ends, wh ost ill a re y o u n g ,
As sem blefor t heir feasting  in  tho s e h allsWhere  spe ak s nohumantongu e. 
And thus our s ongs  are sung .
Ihav everyr arelyfou ndSundayin Lond o n a  s u c c es sful day. I hate
i dl e n es s withou t peac e ,an d  festivi ty  wi thou t beaut y, a n dnoise wi thoutm us ic . I hat eto see  L ond onpeopl e  inunnatu ral clot hes.I  hate to see a city holdingi ts b re a th.
Ja y waited te n mi n utes  ont he  st e ps of  St.Pa u l' s  for Mr. Russell. T hi s
wasnot b ecause he was  late, but b e cause sh e wa s  e a rly; and thisagain 
was not b e cause sh e was  indecen tly eager , but beca use  sh e h adh i ton an
unexpec t e dlyno n-stop'bu s. Shefel t a  fo olfo r ten min utes. An dwh en  y ouhavew aited te nmin ut eson th o se eno rmous  ste ps  u n der  the ey e  o f thepi ge ons,  yo uwillknow why  she fe lt a fool .
M r. R us se ll arri ved in Christ in a the moto rcar , ands i multaneo usly a
shower fell. Fro m  the fi rst  mome nt J ay felt u nsu ccessint he air  of th at
mu ch -an t i cipat e d  d ay.  S he was int r o duc ed to  C hris tina, a nd said, "But we
c a n't  take that th ing  int o th e C a th e dra l. " 

" W e  don't want to, " said Mr.  R u ss ell, altho u gh,  a s he wa s a bor n dri v er,
the  challeng e made hi minst i n cti vely measu re withhis eye t h e dep t hof
th e s teps,an d t he wi dth of the  door way, f ro m Chri stina 's  point o f view.
"We don't wantto pra y. We  wa nt to tal k." 
An onyma wou ld h ave been a sto nis hed t o h e ar hi m sa y  t his . 

"As  a m a tter of f a ct ,"s a id  Jay, "I br o u g htChlor isf or the  sam e reason."

Chlor i s was eating t he b r e adwhi c h a
For now_we grope_for hands where no_hands are,
And,_deathless,_still we_cry,
Nor_hope for a_reply.

You promised harvest_and a perfect yield.
You_promised true, for_on_the harvest morn,
Behold a reaper strode across the field,
And man of woman born
Was gathered_in_as corn.

You_promised_honour_and ordeal by flame.
You promised_true. In joy we trembled_lest
We should_be found unworthy when it came;
But--oh--we never guessed
The_fury_of the test.

You_promised friends and songs and festivals.
You promised true. Our_friends, who still are young,
Assemble for_their feasting in_those_halls
Where_speaks no human tongue.
And_thus our songs are sung.

I have_very rarely found Sunday in London_a successful day. I hate
idleness without peace,_and festivity without beauty, and noise_without
music. I hate to see_London people_in unnatural clothes. I hate_to see a
city_holding its_breath.

Jay waited ten_minutes on the steps of St._Paul's for Mr._Russell. This
was not because he was_late,_but because she_was_early;_and this_again
was not because_she_was indecently_eager,_but because she had hit on_an
unexpectedly_non-stop 'bus. She felt a fool for_ten minutes. And when_you
have_waited ten minutes on_those enormous steps under the_eye of the
pigeons, you will know_why she_felt a_fool.

Mr. Russell arrived in Christina the motor car, and simultaneously a
shower_fell. From the first moment Jay_felt unsuccess in the_air of_that
much-anticipated_day. She was_introduced_to Christina,_and said, "But we
can't take that thing_into the_Cathedral."

"We don't want to," said Mr._Russell, although, as he_was_a born driver,
the challenge made him_instinctively measure with his eye the_depth of
the steps, and the_width_of_the doorway, from Christina's point_of view.
"We don't want to pray._We want to_talk."

Anonyma would have been astonished to hear_him_say this.

"As a matter of fact,"_said_Jay, "I brought Chloris for the_same_reason."

Chloris_was eating the bread which_a