I turned as it clashed. And the gate was just the lodge-gate of
Sevenhays. And Grey Sultan was trampling the gravel of our own drive.
The morning sun slanted over the laurels on my right, and while I
wondered, the stable clock struck eight.
The rest I leave to you; nor shall try to explain. I only know that,
vision or no vision, my soul from that hour has gained a calm it never
knew before. The sufferings of my fellows still afflict me; but always,
if I stand still and listen, in my own room, or in a crowded street, or
in a waste spot among the moors, I can hear those waters moving round
the world--moving on their "priest-like task "--those lustral divine
tears which are Oceanus.