his running as the gods appointed of � two the nights of his sleeping alone in the place of the drunken slumber of frenzy twice he drank to the on the sacred stones of the high place under the sacred trees with a lamp at his head he lay in the place of the feast and the sacred leaves of the around the priest last when the stated even fell upon terrace and tree and the shade of the lofty island lay away to sea he knew the songs of races the names of ancient date and the beard upon his bosom would have bought the chief s estate he dwelt in a high built lodge hard by the roaring shore raised on a noble terrace and with at the door within it was full of riches for he served his nation well and full of the sound of like the hollow of a shell for weeks he let them perish gave never a helping sign but sat on his platform to with the divine but sat on his high terrace with the by his side and stared on the blue ocean like a eyed dawn as yellow as leaped on the mountain height out on the round of the sea the gems of the morning light up from the round of the sea the of the sun � but down in the depths of the valley the day was not begun in the blue of the twilight burned red the and the women and men of the went forth to in the dusk a word that began to go round a word a whisper a start hope that leaped in the bosom fear that knocked on the heart see the priest is not risen � look for his door is fast he is going to name the victims he is going to help us at last thrice rose the sun to noon and ever like one of the dead the priest lay still in his house with the roar of the sea in his head there was never a foot on the floor there was never a whisper of speech only the stared on the blinding beach again were the mountains fired again the morning broke and all the houses lay still but the house of the priest awoke close in their covering roofs lay and trembled the but the ag d red eyed priest ran forth like a lunatic man and the village panted to see him in the jewels of death again in the silver of the old and the hair of women slain frenzy shook in his limbs frenzy shone in his eyes and still and again as he ran the valley rang with his cries all day long in the land by cliff and thicket and den he ran his lunatic rounds and howled for the flesh of men all day long he ate not nor ever drank of the brook and all day long in their houses the people listened and shook � all day long in their houses they listened with breath and never a soul went forth for the sight of the priest was death three were the days of his running as the gods appointed of � two the nights of his sleeping alone in the place of the drunken slumber of frenzy twice he drank to the on the sacred stones of the high place under the sacred trees with a lamp at his head he lay in the place of the feast and the sacred leaves of the around the priest last when the stated even fell upon terrace and tree and the shade of the lofty island lay away to sea he knew the songs of races the names of ancient date and the beard upon his bosom would have bought the chief s estate he dwelt in a high built lodge hard by the roaring shore raised on a noble terrace and with at the door within it was full of riches for he served his nation well and full of the sound of like the hollow of a shell for weeks he let them perish gave never a helping sign but sat on his platform to with the divine but sat on his high terrace with the by his side and stared on the blue ocean like a eyed dawn as yellow as leaped on the mountain height out on the round of the sea the gems of the morning light up from the round of the sea the of the sun � but down in the depths of the valley the day was not begun in the blue of the twilight burned red the and the women and men of the went forth to in the dusk a word that began to go round a word a whisper a start hope that leaped in the bosom fear that knocked on the heart see the priest is not risen � look for his door is fast he is going to name the victims he is going to help us at last thrice rose the sun to noon and ever like one of the dead the priest lay still in his house with the roar of the sea in his head there was never a foot on the floor there was never a whisper of speech only the stared on the blinding beach again were the mountains fired again the morning broke and all the houses lay still but the house of the priest awoke close in their covering roofs lay and trembled the but the ag d red eyed priest ran forth like a lunatic man and the village panted to see him in the jewels of death again in the silver of the old and the hair of women slain frenzy shook in his limbs frenzy shone in his eyes and still and again as he ran the valley rang with his cries all day 