Never had it seemed so material, so like a path that might be trodden by mortal feet and lead them straight to Heaven.

As on the hill top, night again surrounded him and the Harvester's soul drank deep wild draughts of a new joy.

Sleep was out of the question.

He was too intensely alive to know that he ever again could be weary.

He sat there in the moonlight, and with unbridled heart gloried in the joy that had come to him.
He turned his face from the bridge as he heard the click of Belshazzar's nails on the floor of the bathing pool.