And feet kicking the empty wine-skins./But there was no information, and so we continued/And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon/Finding a place; it was (you may say) satisfactory.//
All this was a long time ago, I remember,/And I would do it again, but set down/This set down/This: were we led all that way for/Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,/
We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death,/But had thought they were different; this Birth was/Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death./
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,/But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,/With an alien people clutching their gods./I should be glad of another death.
The End
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