Horses, maidens, and men halted to hear the words: "Now is the day foretold of them who dwell in the dust of the vineyard.
Bow and be silent, ye children of God and ye of far countries.
Consider how many lie low in the old, immemorial vineyard.
Deep--fathom deep--is the dust of the dead 'neath the feet of the living.
"Gone are they and the work of their hands--all save their hope and desire have perished.
Only the flowers of the heart have endured-- only they in the waste of the ages, Ay--they have grown, but the hewn rock has crumbled away and the temples have fallen.
Bow, haughty people; ye live in the day of fulfilment--the day everlasting.
Soon the plough of oppression shall cease and the ox shall abandon the furrow.
Ready the field, and I sing of the sower whose grain has been gathered in heaven.
"Now is he come, with my voice and my soul I declare him.
Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace." The flood of inspiration had passed.

The singer turned away.

"It is Simeon," said a voice in the crowd.

"He shall not die until his eyes have beheld the king of promise." Those departing from the games of Herod resumed their march.

At the gate of the castle of Antonia, Vergilius, with David and two armed equites, one bearing colors, left the squadron.