Robert Olmstead

They came and they went; they ached and pained. They laughed privately and cried to themselves as if heeding a way- off silent call. They were forever childish, sweet and convulsive. They heard sound the way dog heard sound. They were like the moon- they changed every eight days.

Hast thou given the horse strength? Hast thou clothed his neck with thunder?...He swalloweth the ground with fierceness and rage...