Grotius hie Hugo est, Batavum captivus et exul,
Legatus Regni, Suecia magni, tui.
He had bested the world. He had pleased himself, though not much. He was a magician. But he had never shuddered with joyful awe at winter’s first majestic coming back of the Northern Lights above the ice sea, nor had he raced with the great wind Boreas, down the wide white beaches of the Baltic shore, or swum as a child to a sunken boat, full fathom five beyond the sandbars. Would he had. The book is closed.
*
Albuquerque
October 1963, March 1964
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© The Estate of David Stacton, 1965
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ISBN 978–0–571–29620–0
People of the Book Page 46