If in all this there was nothing but the worship of a more graceful humanity, there may be worships much worse as well as better. […] “I live at Naxos,” said the boy, “and there I would fain find myself.” […] “I went then forth into the world,     To see what might be there; And there I heard a voice of woe,     Of weeping, and despair. […] On the evening of the first day, there was a race with torches, in which men on foot, and afterwards on horseback, contended. […] there is nought so beautiful as this.