这是希拉里神父。他挣扎着，却不能祈祷;陡峭的螺旋楼梯也是如此，他的脚在那里颤抖，发出悲伤的盲目的回声。他一直在努力工作。那个秋日的中午，楼梯里有一股令人作呕的气流，像旋转的杯子一样晕眩。他的大脑麻木了，空虚而消瘦;他闭上眼睛，感觉它在旋转;隐隐约约的耳聋把他困住了。他说:“噢，世界，我要什么样的世界?”他靠向阳台，那里的钟声日夜不停; It hurt his brain, he could not pray. He had his face upon the stone: Deep 'twixt the narrow shafts, his eye Passed all the roofs to the stark sky, Swept with no wing, with wind alone. Close to his feet the sky did shake With wind in pools that the rains make; The ripple set his eyes to ache. He said: ?O world, what world for me?? He stood within the mystery Girding God's blessed Eucharist: The organ and the chaunt had ceas'd. The last words paused against his ear Said from the altar: drawn round him The gathering rest was dumb and dim. And now the sacring-bell rang clear And ceased; and all was awe,?the breath Of God in man that warranteth The inmost utmost things of faith. He said: ?O God, my world in Thee!?