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The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from Songs of Travel by Robert Louis Stevenson: Hills of sheep, and the howes of the silent vanished races,
And winds, austere and pure:
Be it granted me to behold you again in dying,
Hills of home! and to hear again the call;
Hear about the graves of the martyrs the peewees crying,
And hear no more at all.
Vailima.
XLIV - EVENSONG
THE embers of the day are red
Beyond the murky hill.
The kitchen smokes: the bed
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