LORD of the black stone, who beareth the name of a chief and the weight of his running, and standeth over the valley as one who will not kneel. He appeareth as a great wall of dark rock laid course on course above a country burned to ash-white below; the lesser peaks rank themselves behind him as a retinue, and the sky stands high and pale at his shoulder. His office is to hold the high seat while all the green of the world is taken from it; to keep his darkness when the canopy beneath turns to bone-fire and the meadows go to chalk; to teach that lordship in the whitening is not whiteness but the refusal to be bleached. He governeth the standing of dark things in a stripped land. Where everything else surrenders its colour, he keeps his stone; the prince remains, and the valley shines white about his feet.
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