23 MARCH 1934, Page 15

Human Histories

THE multitudinous dead, like books unread, Are somewhere in the library of Time.

Glimpses we get, of what they felt and said, Humdrum and homely, or loftily sublime ; But mostly they are ghostly, nameless, nought, Whose journeying shadows fell and left no trace ; Whose worlds in worlds of woven and welded thought Are now the language of a vanished race.

Nothing exists in life more strange than these Lost lineaments of human histories.

SIEGFRIED SASSOON.