Let him who is worthy by reason of his clear eye and unjaded heart wander across these borders of beauty and mystery and be glad.
Thy Banners gleam a little, and are furled; Against thy turrets surge His phantom tow'rs; Drugged with his Opiates the nations nod, Refusing still the beauty of thine hours; And fragile is thy tenure of this world Still haunted by the monstrous ghost of God.
The cool, grey city of love.
A prison becomes a home when you have the key.
As a breath on glass, - As witch-fires that burn, The gods and monsters pass, Are dust, and return. (“The Face of the Skies”)
And starward drifts the stricken world, Lone in unalterable gloom Dead, with a universe for tomb, Dark, and to vaster darkness whirled. (“The Testimony of the Suns”)
And fragile is thy tenure of this world Still haunted by the monstrous ghost of God. ("To Science")
The candle glimmers but an hour. The night
Looms in its ancient hunger. Would you know
The tragedy of human love and need?
Gaze on the stars, then on a brother's face!
O Space and Time and stars at strife, How dreadful your infinity! Shrined by your termless trinity, How strange, how terrible, is life! (“The Testimony of the Suns”)
What silence rules the ghostly hours That guard the close of human sleep!
Within its gates I heard the sound Of winds in cypress caverns caught Of huddling tress that moaned, and sought To whisper what their roots had found. (“A Dream of Fear”)
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