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       lvi

       lvii

       lviii

       lix

       lx

       lxi

       lxii

       lxiii

       lxiv

       lxv

       lxvi

       lxvii

       Book v Jason’s Voyage

       lxviii

       lxix

       lxx

       lxxi

       lxxii

       lxxiii

       lxxiv

       lxxv

       lxxvi

       lxxvii

       lxxviii

       lxxix

       lxxx

       lxxxi

       lxxxii

       lxxxiii

       lxxxiv

       lxxxv

       lxxxvi

       lxxxvii

       lxxxviii

       lxxxix

       Book vi AntÆUs: Earth Again

       xc

       xci

       xcii

       xciii

       xciv

       xcv

       Book vii Kronos and Rhea: The Dream of Time

       xcvi

       xcvii

       xcviii

       xcix

       c

       ci

       Book viii Faust and Helen

       cii

      To

      MAXWELL EVARTS PERKINS

      A GREAT EDITOR AND A BRAVE AND HONEST MAN, WHO STUCK TO THE WRITER OF THIS BOOK THROUGH TIMES OF BITTER HOPELESSNESS AND DOUBT AND WOULD NOT LET HIM GIVE IN TO HIS OWN DESPAIR, A WORK TO BE KNOWN AS “OF TIME AND THE RIVER” IS DEDICATED WITH THE HOPE THAT ALL OF IT MAY BE IN SOME WAY WORTHY OF THE LOYAL DEVOTION AND THE PATIENT CARE WHICH A DAUNTLESS AND UNSHAKEN FRIEND HAS GIVEN TO EACH PART OF IT, AND WITHOUT WHICH NONE OF IT COULD HAVE BEEN WRITTEN

      “Crito, my dear friend Crito, that, believe me, that is what I seem to hear, as the Corybants hear flutes in the air, and the sound of those words rings and echoes in my ears and I can listen to nothing else.”

      “Kennst du das Land, wo die Zitronen blühn,

       Im dunkeln Laub die Gold–Orangen glühn,

       Ein sanfter Wind vom blauen Himmel weht,

       Die Myrte still und hoch der Lorbeer steht,

       Kennst du es wohl?

       Dahin! Dahin

       Möcht’ ich mit dir, O mein Geliebter, ziehn!

      Kennst du das Haus, auf Säulen ruht sein Dach,

       Es glänzt der Saal, es schimmert das Gemach,

       Und Marmorbilder stehn und sehn mich an:

       Was hat man dir, du armes Kind, getan?

       Kennst du es wohl?

       Dahin! Dahin

       Möcht’ ich mit dir, O mein Beschützer, ziehn!

      Kennst du den Berg und seinen Wolkensteg?

       Das Maultier sucht im Nebel

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