The Many-Coloured Land by Julian May

for Tadeusz Maxim, the noblest of them all


My heart is sore pained within me:

and the terrors of death are fallen upon me.

Fear and trembling have seized me: and darkness has overwhelmed me.

And I said: O that I had wings like a dovel. For then I would fly away and be at rest

Lo, would I flee far away, and live in the wilderness.

I would wait for him who will save me from my cowardice and from the storm.

psalm 55

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