In this Moment, but not all moments, spøke IANSIAL:
“Øh! To be a Pilot affixed to my Reckoning! Behold the Mote in God's Eye and Know that above the City Tonight, but not all nights, there hangs in watchful Grace a Number given Name."
proceeding
— II —
I swim thereafter eternally, in the wake of words Mine and not my own, and contemplate how I may Confound those who hate senselessly, Baffle those who know too much, and Awe those with Øpen Eyes.