You carried your own burden and very soon your symptoms of creeping privilege disappeared. - Seamus Heaney

The veteran king sat down on the cliff-top.
He wished good luck to the Geats who had shared
his hearth and his gold. He was sad at heart,
unsettled yet ready, sensing his death.
His fate hovered near, unknowable but certain:
it would soon claim his coffered soul,
part life from limb

Over the waves, with the wind behind her and foam at her neck, she flew like a bird until her curved prow had covered the distance...

The end of art is peace.