Lo, I proclaim the unavoided term,
When this morass of tears, then drained and firm,
Where seven-quired psalterings meet;
And all the gods move with calm hand in hand,
And eyes that know not trouble and the worm.
If ye were blind, ye should have no sin: but now ye say: We
see: your sin remaineth. JOHN ix. 41.
Grapes of the heavens' star-loaden vine,