It would seem to be preferable to say that: while the crowd clamors
and shouts
and triumphs
and celebrates; while one individual after another hastens to the place of tumult, where it is good to be if one is in search of oblivion
and indulgence from that which is eternal; while at the same
time the crowd shouts mockingly at God, «Yes, now see whether you can get hold of us»; yet since it is difficult in the rush of the crowd to
distinguish the individual, difficult to see the single tree when one is looking at the wood, the sober countenance of
eternity quietly waits.