Explore "According to the Mighty Working" by Thomas Hardy on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I. WHEN moiling seems at cease / In the vague void of night-time, / And heaven's wide roomage stormless / Between the dusk and light-time, / And fear at last is formless, / We call the allurement Peace.
II. Peace, this hid riot, Change, / This revel of quick-cued mumming, / This never truly being, / This evermore becoming, / This spinner's wheel onfleeing / Outside perception's range.