XXVI

It has been told and shall be told again
How Night and Day visit the souls of men;
How lissom fiends out of their lusts arise
Till hopeless hell emerges in their eyes;
And how in those dominions of despair
World-ravening ghosts make masques of gloom and glare.

But O, more strange, — and who shall say how strong? —
Those imageries of peace which men behold
Through inmost prayer in world-encircling white . . .
And who shall say to which we most belong,
In whom the incongruous elements unfold
Legions of darkness lost and found in light?