And as they sang their sweet antiphonies, A long procession through the splendid hall Wended slow way, and bearing in the King, The suffering Amfortas in his pain, Still lying listless on his royal couch.

And with your countless clear antiphonies Filling the earth and heaven, even till dawn, Last-risen, found you with its first pale gleam, Still with soft throats unaltered in your dream.

Under this gigantic antiphony the motor-car raced along, curiously small and irrelevant on that empty country road.

As an example of the charm that lies in unostentatious antiphony, consider this passage from Ruskin:"Originality in expression does not depend on invention of new words; nor originality in poetry on invention of new measures; nor in painting on invention of new colours or new modes of using them.