epilogomenon

— Like the poem of Epysychidion, by Shelley, the entrails of our epilogomena, will be caviare to the many-headed but to the select few will be as water to the parched earth, as manna to the hungry Israelite; they will unravel our sphinxities, and untwist our enigmatics, so that our dictum shall be as the opening of the seventh seal, or the finality of cherubian metastasis.