Part 14 (2/2)

And hither and thither fly-

Mere puppets they, who come and go

At bidding of vast formless things

That s.h.i.+ft the scenery to and fro,

Flapping from out their Condor wings

Invisible Woe!

That motley drama-oh, be sure

It shall not be forgot!

With its Phantom chased for evermore,

By a crowd that seize it not,

Through a circle that ever returneth in

To the self-same spot,

And much of Madness, and more of Sin,

And Horror the soul of the plot.

But see, amid the mimic rout

A crawling shape intrude!

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