"  Life  will  not  be  worth  living  anymore,
And  for  a  change,  what  if  I  preached

to  you,
And  told  you  to  be  good,  and  to  adore
His  memory  whom   you  trembled   at

before  ?
That  would   be  rare   sport  now,  and

something  new.
"It's    not    the    first    time    that    I've

preached  indeed.
Very  good  preaching  too  and  orthodox,
Exalting  still  the  faith  above  the  deed  ;
And  how  men  did  devour  my  words

with  greed,
And  went  away,  and  sinned  like  other

folks !  "


544


A  Dream


He  stood  erect,  a  mocking  spirit  bold,
Having   no  faith   in   aught  but   craft

and  lies.
And   full    of   scorn    that    bitter    was

and  cold.
And  good  and  bad    in  like  contempt

did  hold,
And  even  himself  did  fitfully  despise.
Then  a  voice  cried,  "There  shall  be

no  more  light.
The  war  is  ended,  evil  is  supreme  "  ;
But  I  was  fain  to  wrestle  for  the  right.
And  beaded  drops  of  anguish  dimmed

my  sight —
Then  I  awoke,  and  lo  !  it  was  a  dream.
I   woke    up,  with    a   trembling   sense

of  guilt
Upon  me,  as  if  that  wild  dream,  profane
And    blasphemous,  must    surely   have

been  built
Of  some  vile  matter  in  my  heart  that

dwelt.
By  some  base  spirit  lurking  in  my  brain.
But  as  I  brooded  on  it  there  appeared
Another     meaning     slowly     breaking

through
The  lurid   light,  and    horrid   sounds,

and  weird
Wild  phantasms  of  my  dream  ;  and  as

it  cleared
Peace  came  to  me  again,  and  comfort

grew.
I  had  been  reading  far  into  the  night
That  "  ultimate  analysis  of  things
Can  find  no  need  of  God,  nor  any  light
Shed,  by  the  thought  of  Infinite  wisdom

and  might.
