Part 5 (1/2)

No more shall leering ghosts of pimp and king With b.l.o.o.d.y secrets veiled before me stand.

Last night I held all evil in my hand Closed: and behold it was a little thing.

I broke the infernal gates and looked on him Who fronts the strong creation with a curse; Even the G.o.d of a lost universe, Smiling above his hideous cherubim.

And pierced far down in his soul's crypt unriven The last black crooked sympathy and shame, And hailed him with that ringing rainbow name Erased upon the oldest book in heaven.

Like emptied idiot masks, sin's loves and wars Stare at me now: for in the night I broke The bubble of a great world's jest, and woke Laughing with laughter such as shakes the stars.

THE HOLY OF HOLIES

'Elder father, though thine eyes s.h.i.+ne with h.o.a.ry mysteries, Canst thou tell what in the heart Of a cowslip blossom lies?

'Smaller than all lives that be, Secret as the deepest sea, Stands a little house of seeds, Like an elfin's granary,

'Speller of the stones and weeds, Skilled in Nature's crafts and creeds, Tell me what is in the heart Of the smallest of the seeds.'

'G.o.d Almighty, and with Him Cherubim and Seraphim, Filling all eternity-- Adonai Elohim.'

THE MIRROR OF MADMEN

I dreamed a dream of heaven, white as frost, The splendid stillness of a living host; Vast choirs of upturned faces, line o'er line.

Then my blood froze; for every face was mine.

Spirits with sunset plumage throng and pa.s.s, Gla.s.sed darkly in the sea of gold and gla.s.s.

But still on every side, in every spot, I saw a million selves, who saw me not.

I fled to quiet wastes, where on a stone, Perchance, I found a saint, who sat alone; I came behind: he turned with slow, sweet grace, And faced me with my happy, hateful face.

I cowered like one that in a tower doth bide, Shut in by mirrors upon every side; Then I saw, islanded in skies alone And silent, one that sat upon a throne.

His robe was bordered with rich rose and gold, Green, purple, silver out of sunsets old; But o'er his face a great cloud edged with fire, Because it covereth the world's desire.

But as I gazed, a silent wors.h.i.+pper, Methought the cloud began to faintly stir; Then I fell flat, and screamed with grovelling head, 'If thou hast any lightning, strike me dead!

'But spare a brow where the clean sunlight fell, The crown of a new sin that sickens h.e.l.l.

Let me not look aloft and see mine own Feature and form upon the Judgment-throne.'

Then my dream snapped: and with a heart that leapt I saw across the tavern where I slept, The sight of all my life most full of grace, A gin-d.a.m.ned drunkard's wan half-witted face.

E.C.B.