我的朋友走到钢琴旁;把凳子转高一点;让他的烟斗冷却;从胸前捡起一本厚厚的绿色的书;把它撑开。他的手指扫过像剑一样闪闪发光的钥匙…伴随着野蛮人的鼓声，咆哮着，雷鸣着，没有武器，一支军队冲进了空中的堡垒!可怕的旌旗，杀戮和焦灼的火焰，一起前进，如闪电行进，和迅速的风暴云。厚颜无耻的头盔和汽车叮当作响，旧战争的激烈复苏在尖叫的号角。他们在庄严的仪容中走过，踏着辉煌的脚步，寻找着广阔的天地——像一把跃动的刀划破黑暗，火焰，我们生命中高贵的盛会! The burning seal that stamps man's high indenture To vain attempt and most forlorn adventure; Romance, and purple seas, and toppling towns, And the wind's valiance crying o'er the downs; That nerves the silly hand, the feeble brain, From the loose net of words to deeds again And to all courage! Perilous and sharp The last chord shook me as wind shakes a harp! . . . And my friend swung round on his stool, and from gods we were men, "How pretty!" we said; and went on with our talk again.