| The first excerpt represents the element of Air. It speaks of mental influences and the process of thought, and is drawn from The Oakdale Affair by Edgar Rice Burroughs: taken him back to investigate and to find the loot of the
Baggs's crime wrapped in a bloody rag and hastily
buried in a shallow hole.
When Burton and Jonas Prim arrived at the Case farm
they were met by a new Willie. A puffed and important
young man swaggered before them as he retold his tale
and led them through the woods toward the spot where
they were to bag their prey. The last hundred yards was
made on hands and knees; but when the party arrived
at the clearing there was no one in sight, only the hovel
stood mute and hollow-eyed before them.
The Oakdale Affair |
The second excerpt represents the element of Fire. It speaks of emotional influences and base passions, and is drawn from Phantasmagoria and Other Poems by Lewis Carroll: And ye are withered, worn, and gray.
Ah, well-a-day!
O fair cold face! O form of grace,
For human passion madly yearning!
O weary air of dumb despair,
From marble won, to marble turning!
"Leave us not thus!" we fondly pray.
"We cannot let thee pass away!"
Ah, well-a-day!
IV.
MY First is singular at best:
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| The third excerpt represents the element of Water. It speaks of pure spiritual influences and feelings of love, and is drawn from Bucolics by Virgil: And all the woodland ring; nor can there be
A page more dear to Phoebus, than the page
Where, foremost writ, the name of Varus stands.
Speed ye, Pierian Maids! Within a cave
Young Chromis and Mnasyllos chanced to see
Silenus sleeping, flushed, as was his wont,
With wine of yesterday. Not far aloof,
Slipped from his head, the garlands lay, and there
By its worn handle hung a ponderous cup.
Approaching- for the old man many a time
Had balked them both of a long hoped-for song-
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The fourth excerpt represents the element of Earth. It speaks of physical influences and the impact of the unseen on the visible world, and is drawn from Father Goriot by Honore de Balzac: in a black varnished frame, with a gilt beading round it; you
know the sort of tortoise-shell clock-case, inlaid with brass;
the green stove, the Argand lamps, covered with oil and dust,
have met your eyes before. The oilcloth which covers the long
table is so greasy that a waggish externe will write his name on
the surface, using his thumb-nail as a style. The chairs are
broken-down invalids; the wretched little hempen mats slip away
from under your feet without slipping away for good; and finally,
the foot-warmers are miserable wrecks, hingeless, charred, broken
away about the holes. It would be impossible to give an idea of
the old, rotten, shaky, cranky, worm-eaten, halt, maimed, one-
Father Goriot |
