On the slope of the knoll angels br whirl their woolen robes br in pastures of emerald and steel. br Meadows of flame leap up to the summit of the little hill. br br At the left, the mold of the ridge is trampled by all the homicides br and all the battles, and all the disastrous noises br describe their curve. Behind the right-hand br ridge, the line of orients and of progress. br br And while the band above the picture is composed of the revolving br and rushing hum of seashells and of human nights, br The flowering sweetness of the stars and of the night br and all the rest descends, opposite the knol br l, like a basket,-- against our face, and br makes the abyss perfumed and blue below.