"Be calm till you hear me through. ... Do not move, or enter here, I am hiding my face from you. ... Hear me through, and then fly. I warned her against you, but how could I tell her Why you were not for her? But tell me now, have you come together? No? Thank God for that. ... For you must not come together. ... Now listen while I whisper to you: My daughter was born of a lawless love For a man I loved before I married, And when, for five years, no child came I went to this man And begged him to give me a child. ... Well then ... the child was born, your wife as it seems. ... And when my husband saw her, And saw the likeness of this man in her face He went out of the house, where they found him later By the entrance gate With the iris of his eyes so black, And the white of his eyes so china-blue, And specks of blood on his face, Like a wall specked by a shake of a brush. And something like blubber or pinkish wax Hiding the gash in his throat-- The serum and blood blown up by the breath From emptied lungs. Yes, there by the gate, O God! Quit rocking your chair! Don't you understand? Quit rocking your chair! Go! Go! Leap from the bluff to the rocks on the shore! Take down the sickle and end yourself! You don't care, you say, for all I've told you? Well, then, you see, you're older than Flora. ... And her father died when she was a baby. ... And you were four when your father died. ... And her father died on the very day That your father died, At the verv same moment. ... On the very same bed. ... Don't you understand?" VI He ceases to rock. He reels from the porch, He runs and stumbles to reach the road. He yells and curses and tears his hair. He staggers and falls and rises and runs. And Widow La Rue With the eyes of Clytemnestra Stands at the window and watches him Running and tearing his hair. VII She seems so calm when the daughter returns. She only says: "He has gone to the meadow, He will soon be back. ..." But he never came back. And the years went on till the daughter's hair Was white as her mother's there in the grave. She was known as the bride whom the bridegroom left And didn't say good-bye. DR. SCUDDER'S CLINICAL LECTURE I lectured last upon the morbus sacer, Or falling sickness, epilepsy, of old In Palestine and Greece so much ascribed To deities or devils. To resume We find it caused by morphological Changes of the cortex cells. Sometimes, More times, indeed, the anatomical Basis, if one be, escapes detection. For many functions of the cortex are Unknown, as I have said.