Part 14 (1/2)

While I weep-while I weep!

O G.o.d! can I not grasp

Them with a tighter clasp?

O G.o.d! can I not save

One from the pitiless wave?

Is all that we see or seem

But a dream within a dream?

The Conqueror Worm

LO! t'is a gala night

Within the lonesome latter years!

An angel throng, bewinged, bedight

In veils, and drowned in tears,

Sit in a theatre, to see

A play of hopes and fears,

While the orchestra breathes fitfully

The music of the spheres.

Mimes, in the form of G.o.d on high,

Mutter and mumble low,