noon
I shall be merry again with you later , when my strings are tuned to merriment . I have no power over them . Now they are tuned to a chorale ... * * * * * At dawn , in the bright moonlight , I leave the hut and push on quickly in order to reach the village as soon as possible . But I must have started too early or walked too fast , for at this rate I shall reach the village at high noon . What am I chasing after ? Perhaps it is feeling the nearness of the sea that drives me forward . And as I stand on the last high ridge , with the glitter and roar of the sea far beneath , a sweetness darts through me like a greeting from another world . ''