None like silk as though pillars and are   Patterned servants of fate’s stone.         The western canopy and baptistry         Down, without tend.

The identity appears, distorted at first     Who by firelit mask gazed on a                Necklaced and prodigal Odysseus;         Here on woven earth.  

And yet, since birth the marble dark itself,   Underground and without mortal belief     Lying still, observes the named hour.