CANTO VII

1The host had trimmed his lamp. The downy mothCame from the garden. Where the lamplight shedIts circle of smooth white upon the cloth,Down mid the rinds of fruit and broken bread,Upon his sprawling arms lay Dymer’s head;And often, as he dreamed, he shifted place,Muttering and showing half his drunken face.2The beating stillness of the dead of nightFlooded the room. The dark and sleepy powersSettled upon the house and filled it quite;Far from the roads it lay, from belfry towersAnd hen-roosts, in a world of folded flowers,Buried in loneliest fields where beasts that loveThe silence through the unrustled hedgegrows move.3Now from the Master’s lips there breathed a sighAs of a man released from some controlThat wronged him. Without aim his wandering eye,Unsteadied and unfixed, began to roll.His lower lip dropped loose. The informing soulSeemed fading from his face. He laughed out loudOnce only: then looked round him, hushed and cowed.4Then, summoning all himself, with tightened lip,With desperate coolness and attentive air,He touched between his thumb and finger tip,Each in its turn, the four legs of his chair,Then back again in haste—there!—that one thereHad been forgotten ... once more! ... safer now;That’s better! and he smiled and cleared his brow.5Yet this was but a moment’s ease. Once moreHe glanced about him like a startled hare,His big eyes bulged with horror. As before,Quick!—to the touch that saves him. But despairIs nearer by one step; and in his chairHuddling he waits. He knows that they’ll come strongAgain and yet again and all night long;6And after this night comes another night—Night after night until the worst of all.And now too even the noonday and the lightLet through the horrors. Oh, could he recallThe deep sleep and the dreams that used to fallAround him for the asking. But, somehow,Something’s amiss ... sleep comes so rarely now.7Then, like the dog returning to its vomit,He staggered to the bookcase to renewYet once again the taint he had taken from it,And shuddered as he went. But horror drewHis feet, as joy draws others. There in viewWas his strange heaven and his far stranger hell,His secret lust, his soul’s dark citadel:—8Old Theogmagia, Demonology,Cabbala, Chemic Magic, Book of the Dead,Damning Hermetic rolls that none may seeSave the already damned—such grules are bredFrom minds that lose the Spirit and seek insteadFor spirits in the dust of dead men’s error,Buying the joys of dream with dreamland terror.9This lost soul looked them over one and allNow sickened at the heart’s root; for he knewThis night was one of those when he would fallAnd scream alone (such things they made him do)And roll upon the floor. The madness grewWild at his breast, but still his brain was clearThat he could watch the moment coming near.10But, ere it came, he heard a sound, half groan,Half muttering, from the table. Like a childCaught unawares that thought it was alone,He started as in guilt. His gaze was wild,Yet pitiably with all his will he smiled,—So strong is shame, even then. And Dymer stirred,Now waking, and looked up and spoke one word:11“Water!” he said. He was too dazed to seeWhat hell-wrung face looked down, what shaking handPoured out the draught. He drank it thirstilyAnd held the glass for more. “Your land ... your landOf dreams,” he said. “All lies!... I understandMore than I did. Yes, water. I’ve the thirstOf hell itself. Your magic’s all accursed.”12When he had drunk again he rose and stood,Pallid and cold with sleep. “By God,” he said,“You did me wrong to send me to that wood.I sought a living spirit and found insteadBogys and wraiths.” The Master raised his headCalm as a sage and answered, “Are you mad?Come, sit you down. Tell me what dream you had.”13—“I dreamed about a wood ... an autumn redOf beech-trees big as mountains. Down between—The first thing that I saw—a clearing spread,Deep down, oh, very deep. Like some ravineOr like a well it sank, that forest greenUnder its weight of forest—more remoteThan one ship in a landlocked sea afloat.14“Then through the narrowed sky some heavy birdWould flap its way, a stillness more profoundFollowing its languid wings. Sometimes I heardFar off in the long woods with quiet soundThe sudden chestnut thumping to the ground,Or the dry leaf that drifted past uponIts endless loiter earthward and was gone.15“Then next ... I heard twigs splintering on my rightAnd rustling in the thickets. Turning thereI watched. Out of the foliage came in sightThe head and blundering shoulders of a bear,Glistening in sable black, with beady stareOf eyes towards me, and no room to fly—But padding soft and slow the beast came by.16“And—mark their flattery—stood and rubbed his flankAgainst me. On my shaken legs I feltHis heart beat. And my hand that stroked him sankWrist-deep upon his shoulder in soft pelt.Yes ... and across my spirit as I smeltThe wild thing’s scent, a new, sweet wildness ranWhispering of Eden-fields long lost by man.17“So far was well. But then came emerald birdsSinging about my head. I took my waySauntering the cloistered woods. Then came the herds,The roebuck and the fallow deer at playTrooping to nose my hand. All this, you say,Was sweet? Oh sweet!... do you think I could not seeThat beasts and wood were nothing else but me?18“... That I was making everything I saw,Too sweet, far too well fitted to desireTo be a living thing? Those forests drawNo sap from the kind earth: the solar fireAnd soft rain feed them not: that fairy brierPricks not: the birds sing sweetly in that brakeNot for their own delight but for my sake!19“It is a world of sad, cold, heartless stuff,Like a bought smile, no joy in it.”—“But stay;Did you not find your lady?”—“Sure enough!I still had hopes till then. The autumn dayWas westering, the long shadows crossed my way,When over daisies folded for the nightBeneath rook-gathering elms she came in sight.”20—“Was she not fair?”—“So beautiful, she seemedAlmost a living soul. But every partWas what I made it—all that I had dreamed—No more, no less: the mirror of my heart,Such things as boyhood feigns beneath the smartOf solitude and spring. I was deceivedAlmost. In that first moment I believed.21“For a big, brooding rapture, tense as fireAnd calm as a first sleep had soaked me throughWithout thought, without word, without desire....Meanwhile above our heads the deepening blueBurnished the gathering stars. Her sweetness drewA veil before my eyes. The minutes passedHeavy like loaded vines. She spoke at last.22“She said, for this land only did men loveThe shadow-lands of earth. All our diseaseOf longing, all the hopes we fabled of,Fortunate islands or Hesperean seasOr woods beyond the West, were but the breezeThat blew from off those shores: one farspent breathThat reached even to the world of change and death.23“She told me I had journeyed home at lastInto the golden age and the good countrieThat had been always there. She bade me castMy cares behind forever:—on her kneeWorshipped me, lord and love—oh, I can seeHer red lips even now! Is it not wrongThat men’s delusions should be made so strong?24“For listen, I was so besotted nowShe made me think that I was somehow seeingThe very core of truth ... I felt somehow,Beyond all veils, the inward pulse of being.Thought was enslaved, but oh, it felt like freeingAnd draughts of larger air. It is too much!Who can come through untainted from that touch?25“There I was nearly wrecked. But mark the rest:She went too fast. Soft to my arms she came.The robe slipped from her shoulder. The smooth breastWas bare against my own. She shone like flameBefore me in the dusk, all love, all shame—Faugh!—and it was myself. But all was well,For, at the least, that moment snapped the spell.26“As when you light a candle, the great gloomWhich was the unbounded night, sinks down, compressedTo four white walls in one familiar room,So the vague joy shrank wilted in my breastAnd narrowed to one point, unmasked, confessed;Fool’s paradise was gone: instead was thereKing Lust with his black, sudden, serious stare.27“That moment in a cloud among the treesWild music and the glare of torches came.On sweated faces, on the prancing kneesOf shaggy satyrs fell the smoky flame,On ape and goat and crawlers without name,On rolling breast, black eyes and tossing hair,On old bald-headed witches, lean and bare.28“They beat the devilish tom-tom rub-a-dub;Lunging, leaping, in unwieldy romp,Singing Cotytto and Beelzebub,With devil dancers mask and phallic pomp,Torn raw with briers and caked from many a swampThey came, among the wild flowers dripping bloodAnd churning the green mosses into mud.29“They sang, ‘Return! Return! We are the lustThat was before the world and still shall beWhen your last law is trampled into dust,We are the mother swamp, the primal seaWhence the dry land appeared. Old, old are we.It is but a return ... it’s nothing new,Easy as slipping on a well-worn shoe.’30“And then there came warm mouths and finger-tipsPreying upon me, whence I could not see,Then ... a huge face, low browed, with swollen lipsCrooning ‘I am not beautiful as she,But I’m the older love; you shall love meFar more than Beauty’s self. You have been oursAlways. We are the world’s most ancient powers.’31“First flatterer and then bogy—like a dream!Sir, are you listening? Do you also knowHow close to the soft laughter comes the screamDown yonder?” But his host cried sharply, “No.Leave me alone. Why will you plague me? Go!Out of my house! Begone.”—“With all my heart,”Said Dymer. “But one word before we part.”32He paused, and in his cheek the anger burned:Then turning to the table, he poured outMore water. But before he drank he turned—Then leaped back to the window with a shoutFor there—it was no dream—beyond all doubtHe saw the Master crouch with levelled gunCackling in maniac voice, “Run, Dymer, run!”33He ducked and sprang far out. The starless nightOn the wet lawn closed round him every way.Then came the gun-crack and the splash of lightVanished as soon as seen. Cool garden claySlid from his feet. He had fallen and he layFace downward among leaves—then up and onThrough branch and leaf till sense and breath were gone.

The host had trimmed his lamp. The downy mothCame from the garden. Where the lamplight shedIts circle of smooth white upon the cloth,Down mid the rinds of fruit and broken bread,Upon his sprawling arms lay Dymer’s head;And often, as he dreamed, he shifted place,Muttering and showing half his drunken face.

The host had trimmed his lamp. The downy moth

Came from the garden. Where the lamplight shed

Its circle of smooth white upon the cloth,

Down mid the rinds of fruit and broken bread,

Upon his sprawling arms lay Dymer’s head;

And often, as he dreamed, he shifted place,

Muttering and showing half his drunken face.

The beating stillness of the dead of nightFlooded the room. The dark and sleepy powersSettled upon the house and filled it quite;Far from the roads it lay, from belfry towersAnd hen-roosts, in a world of folded flowers,Buried in loneliest fields where beasts that loveThe silence through the unrustled hedgegrows move.

The beating stillness of the dead of night

Flooded the room. The dark and sleepy powers

Settled upon the house and filled it quite;

Far from the roads it lay, from belfry towers

And hen-roosts, in a world of folded flowers,

Buried in loneliest fields where beasts that love

The silence through the unrustled hedgegrows move.

Now from the Master’s lips there breathed a sighAs of a man released from some controlThat wronged him. Without aim his wandering eye,Unsteadied and unfixed, began to roll.His lower lip dropped loose. The informing soulSeemed fading from his face. He laughed out loudOnce only: then looked round him, hushed and cowed.

Now from the Master’s lips there breathed a sigh

As of a man released from some control

That wronged him. Without aim his wandering eye,

Unsteadied and unfixed, began to roll.

His lower lip dropped loose. The informing soul

Seemed fading from his face. He laughed out loud

Once only: then looked round him, hushed and cowed.

Then, summoning all himself, with tightened lip,With desperate coolness and attentive air,He touched between his thumb and finger tip,Each in its turn, the four legs of his chair,Then back again in haste—there!—that one thereHad been forgotten ... once more! ... safer now;That’s better! and he smiled and cleared his brow.

Then, summoning all himself, with tightened lip,

With desperate coolness and attentive air,

He touched between his thumb and finger tip,

Each in its turn, the four legs of his chair,

Then back again in haste—there!—that one there

Had been forgotten ... once more! ... safer now;

That’s better! and he smiled and cleared his brow.

Yet this was but a moment’s ease. Once moreHe glanced about him like a startled hare,His big eyes bulged with horror. As before,Quick!—to the touch that saves him. But despairIs nearer by one step; and in his chairHuddling he waits. He knows that they’ll come strongAgain and yet again and all night long;

Yet this was but a moment’s ease. Once more

He glanced about him like a startled hare,

His big eyes bulged with horror. As before,

Quick!—to the touch that saves him. But despair

Is nearer by one step; and in his chair

Huddling he waits. He knows that they’ll come strong

Again and yet again and all night long;

And after this night comes another night—Night after night until the worst of all.And now too even the noonday and the lightLet through the horrors. Oh, could he recallThe deep sleep and the dreams that used to fallAround him for the asking. But, somehow,Something’s amiss ... sleep comes so rarely now.

And after this night comes another night

—Night after night until the worst of all.

And now too even the noonday and the light

Let through the horrors. Oh, could he recall

The deep sleep and the dreams that used to fall

Around him for the asking. But, somehow,

Something’s amiss ... sleep comes so rarely now.

Then, like the dog returning to its vomit,He staggered to the bookcase to renewYet once again the taint he had taken from it,And shuddered as he went. But horror drewHis feet, as joy draws others. There in viewWas his strange heaven and his far stranger hell,His secret lust, his soul’s dark citadel:—

Then, like the dog returning to its vomit,

He staggered to the bookcase to renew

Yet once again the taint he had taken from it,

And shuddered as he went. But horror drew

His feet, as joy draws others. There in view

Was his strange heaven and his far stranger hell,

His secret lust, his soul’s dark citadel:—

Old Theogmagia, Demonology,Cabbala, Chemic Magic, Book of the Dead,Damning Hermetic rolls that none may seeSave the already damned—such grules are bredFrom minds that lose the Spirit and seek insteadFor spirits in the dust of dead men’s error,Buying the joys of dream with dreamland terror.

Old Theogmagia, Demonology,

Cabbala, Chemic Magic, Book of the Dead,

Damning Hermetic rolls that none may see

Save the already damned—such grules are bred

From minds that lose the Spirit and seek instead

For spirits in the dust of dead men’s error,

Buying the joys of dream with dreamland terror.

This lost soul looked them over one and allNow sickened at the heart’s root; for he knewThis night was one of those when he would fallAnd scream alone (such things they made him do)And roll upon the floor. The madness grewWild at his breast, but still his brain was clearThat he could watch the moment coming near.

This lost soul looked them over one and all

Now sickened at the heart’s root; for he knew

This night was one of those when he would fall

And scream alone (such things they made him do)

And roll upon the floor. The madness grew

Wild at his breast, but still his brain was clear

That he could watch the moment coming near.

But, ere it came, he heard a sound, half groan,Half muttering, from the table. Like a childCaught unawares that thought it was alone,He started as in guilt. His gaze was wild,Yet pitiably with all his will he smiled,—So strong is shame, even then. And Dymer stirred,Now waking, and looked up and spoke one word:

But, ere it came, he heard a sound, half groan,

Half muttering, from the table. Like a child

Caught unawares that thought it was alone,

He started as in guilt. His gaze was wild,

Yet pitiably with all his will he smiled,

—So strong is shame, even then. And Dymer stirred,

Now waking, and looked up and spoke one word:

“Water!” he said. He was too dazed to seeWhat hell-wrung face looked down, what shaking handPoured out the draught. He drank it thirstilyAnd held the glass for more. “Your land ... your landOf dreams,” he said. “All lies!... I understandMore than I did. Yes, water. I’ve the thirstOf hell itself. Your magic’s all accursed.”

“Water!” he said. He was too dazed to see

What hell-wrung face looked down, what shaking hand

Poured out the draught. He drank it thirstily

And held the glass for more. “Your land ... your land

Of dreams,” he said. “All lies!... I understand

More than I did. Yes, water. I’ve the thirst

Of hell itself. Your magic’s all accursed.”

When he had drunk again he rose and stood,Pallid and cold with sleep. “By God,” he said,“You did me wrong to send me to that wood.I sought a living spirit and found insteadBogys and wraiths.” The Master raised his headCalm as a sage and answered, “Are you mad?Come, sit you down. Tell me what dream you had.”

When he had drunk again he rose and stood,

Pallid and cold with sleep. “By God,” he said,

“You did me wrong to send me to that wood.

I sought a living spirit and found instead

Bogys and wraiths.” The Master raised his head

Calm as a sage and answered, “Are you mad?

Come, sit you down. Tell me what dream you had.”

—“I dreamed about a wood ... an autumn redOf beech-trees big as mountains. Down between—The first thing that I saw—a clearing spread,Deep down, oh, very deep. Like some ravineOr like a well it sank, that forest greenUnder its weight of forest—more remoteThan one ship in a landlocked sea afloat.

—“I dreamed about a wood ... an autumn red

Of beech-trees big as mountains. Down between—

The first thing that I saw—a clearing spread,

Deep down, oh, very deep. Like some ravine

Or like a well it sank, that forest green

Under its weight of forest—more remote

Than one ship in a landlocked sea afloat.

“Then through the narrowed sky some heavy birdWould flap its way, a stillness more profoundFollowing its languid wings. Sometimes I heardFar off in the long woods with quiet soundThe sudden chestnut thumping to the ground,Or the dry leaf that drifted past uponIts endless loiter earthward and was gone.

“Then through the narrowed sky some heavy bird

Would flap its way, a stillness more profound

Following its languid wings. Sometimes I heard

Far off in the long woods with quiet sound

The sudden chestnut thumping to the ground,

Or the dry leaf that drifted past upon

Its endless loiter earthward and was gone.

“Then next ... I heard twigs splintering on my rightAnd rustling in the thickets. Turning thereI watched. Out of the foliage came in sightThe head and blundering shoulders of a bear,Glistening in sable black, with beady stareOf eyes towards me, and no room to fly—But padding soft and slow the beast came by.

“Then next ... I heard twigs splintering on my right

And rustling in the thickets. Turning there

I watched. Out of the foliage came in sight

The head and blundering shoulders of a bear,

Glistening in sable black, with beady stare

Of eyes towards me, and no room to fly

—But padding soft and slow the beast came by.

“And—mark their flattery—stood and rubbed his flankAgainst me. On my shaken legs I feltHis heart beat. And my hand that stroked him sankWrist-deep upon his shoulder in soft pelt.Yes ... and across my spirit as I smeltThe wild thing’s scent, a new, sweet wildness ranWhispering of Eden-fields long lost by man.

“And—mark their flattery—stood and rubbed his flank

Against me. On my shaken legs I felt

His heart beat. And my hand that stroked him sank

Wrist-deep upon his shoulder in soft pelt.

Yes ... and across my spirit as I smelt

The wild thing’s scent, a new, sweet wildness ran

Whispering of Eden-fields long lost by man.

“So far was well. But then came emerald birdsSinging about my head. I took my waySauntering the cloistered woods. Then came the herds,The roebuck and the fallow deer at playTrooping to nose my hand. All this, you say,Was sweet? Oh sweet!... do you think I could not seeThat beasts and wood were nothing else but me?

“So far was well. But then came emerald birds

Singing about my head. I took my way

Sauntering the cloistered woods. Then came the herds,

The roebuck and the fallow deer at play

Trooping to nose my hand. All this, you say,

Was sweet? Oh sweet!... do you think I could not see

That beasts and wood were nothing else but me?

“... That I was making everything I saw,Too sweet, far too well fitted to desireTo be a living thing? Those forests drawNo sap from the kind earth: the solar fireAnd soft rain feed them not: that fairy brierPricks not: the birds sing sweetly in that brakeNot for their own delight but for my sake!

“... That I was making everything I saw,

Too sweet, far too well fitted to desire

To be a living thing? Those forests draw

No sap from the kind earth: the solar fire

And soft rain feed them not: that fairy brier

Pricks not: the birds sing sweetly in that brake

Not for their own delight but for my sake!

“It is a world of sad, cold, heartless stuff,Like a bought smile, no joy in it.”—“But stay;Did you not find your lady?”—“Sure enough!I still had hopes till then. The autumn dayWas westering, the long shadows crossed my way,When over daisies folded for the nightBeneath rook-gathering elms she came in sight.”

“It is a world of sad, cold, heartless stuff,

Like a bought smile, no joy in it.”—“But stay;

Did you not find your lady?”—“Sure enough!

I still had hopes till then. The autumn day

Was westering, the long shadows crossed my way,

When over daisies folded for the night

Beneath rook-gathering elms she came in sight.”

—“Was she not fair?”—“So beautiful, she seemedAlmost a living soul. But every partWas what I made it—all that I had dreamed—No more, no less: the mirror of my heart,Such things as boyhood feigns beneath the smartOf solitude and spring. I was deceivedAlmost. In that first moment I believed.

—“Was she not fair?”—“So beautiful, she seemed

Almost a living soul. But every part

Was what I made it—all that I had dreamed—

No more, no less: the mirror of my heart,

Such things as boyhood feigns beneath the smart

Of solitude and spring. I was deceived

Almost. In that first moment I believed.

“For a big, brooding rapture, tense as fireAnd calm as a first sleep had soaked me throughWithout thought, without word, without desire....Meanwhile above our heads the deepening blueBurnished the gathering stars. Her sweetness drewA veil before my eyes. The minutes passedHeavy like loaded vines. She spoke at last.

“For a big, brooding rapture, tense as fire

And calm as a first sleep had soaked me through

Without thought, without word, without desire....

Meanwhile above our heads the deepening blue

Burnished the gathering stars. Her sweetness drew

A veil before my eyes. The minutes passed

Heavy like loaded vines. She spoke at last.

“She said, for this land only did men loveThe shadow-lands of earth. All our diseaseOf longing, all the hopes we fabled of,Fortunate islands or Hesperean seasOr woods beyond the West, were but the breezeThat blew from off those shores: one farspent breathThat reached even to the world of change and death.

“She said, for this land only did men love

The shadow-lands of earth. All our disease

Of longing, all the hopes we fabled of,

Fortunate islands or Hesperean seas

Or woods beyond the West, were but the breeze

That blew from off those shores: one farspent breath

That reached even to the world of change and death.

“She told me I had journeyed home at lastInto the golden age and the good countrieThat had been always there. She bade me castMy cares behind forever:—on her kneeWorshipped me, lord and love—oh, I can seeHer red lips even now! Is it not wrongThat men’s delusions should be made so strong?

“She told me I had journeyed home at last

Into the golden age and the good countrie

That had been always there. She bade me cast

My cares behind forever:—on her knee

Worshipped me, lord and love—oh, I can see

Her red lips even now! Is it not wrong

That men’s delusions should be made so strong?

“For listen, I was so besotted nowShe made me think that I was somehow seeingThe very core of truth ... I felt somehow,Beyond all veils, the inward pulse of being.Thought was enslaved, but oh, it felt like freeingAnd draughts of larger air. It is too much!Who can come through untainted from that touch?

“For listen, I was so besotted now

She made me think that I was somehow seeing

The very core of truth ... I felt somehow,

Beyond all veils, the inward pulse of being.

Thought was enslaved, but oh, it felt like freeing

And draughts of larger air. It is too much!

Who can come through untainted from that touch?

“There I was nearly wrecked. But mark the rest:She went too fast. Soft to my arms she came.The robe slipped from her shoulder. The smooth breastWas bare against my own. She shone like flameBefore me in the dusk, all love, all shame—Faugh!—and it was myself. But all was well,For, at the least, that moment snapped the spell.

“There I was nearly wrecked. But mark the rest:

She went too fast. Soft to my arms she came.

The robe slipped from her shoulder. The smooth breast

Was bare against my own. She shone like flame

Before me in the dusk, all love, all shame—

Faugh!—and it was myself. But all was well,

For, at the least, that moment snapped the spell.

“As when you light a candle, the great gloomWhich was the unbounded night, sinks down, compressedTo four white walls in one familiar room,So the vague joy shrank wilted in my breastAnd narrowed to one point, unmasked, confessed;Fool’s paradise was gone: instead was thereKing Lust with his black, sudden, serious stare.

“As when you light a candle, the great gloom

Which was the unbounded night, sinks down, compressed

To four white walls in one familiar room,

So the vague joy shrank wilted in my breast

And narrowed to one point, unmasked, confessed;

Fool’s paradise was gone: instead was there

King Lust with his black, sudden, serious stare.

“That moment in a cloud among the treesWild music and the glare of torches came.On sweated faces, on the prancing kneesOf shaggy satyrs fell the smoky flame,On ape and goat and crawlers without name,On rolling breast, black eyes and tossing hair,On old bald-headed witches, lean and bare.

“That moment in a cloud among the trees

Wild music and the glare of torches came.

On sweated faces, on the prancing knees

Of shaggy satyrs fell the smoky flame,

On ape and goat and crawlers without name,

On rolling breast, black eyes and tossing hair,

On old bald-headed witches, lean and bare.

“They beat the devilish tom-tom rub-a-dub;Lunging, leaping, in unwieldy romp,Singing Cotytto and Beelzebub,With devil dancers mask and phallic pomp,Torn raw with briers and caked from many a swampThey came, among the wild flowers dripping bloodAnd churning the green mosses into mud.

“They beat the devilish tom-tom rub-a-dub;

Lunging, leaping, in unwieldy romp,

Singing Cotytto and Beelzebub,

With devil dancers mask and phallic pomp,

Torn raw with briers and caked from many a swamp

They came, among the wild flowers dripping blood

And churning the green mosses into mud.

“They sang, ‘Return! Return! We are the lustThat was before the world and still shall beWhen your last law is trampled into dust,We are the mother swamp, the primal seaWhence the dry land appeared. Old, old are we.It is but a return ... it’s nothing new,Easy as slipping on a well-worn shoe.’

“They sang, ‘Return! Return! We are the lust

That was before the world and still shall be

When your last law is trampled into dust,

We are the mother swamp, the primal sea

Whence the dry land appeared. Old, old are we.

It is but a return ... it’s nothing new,

Easy as slipping on a well-worn shoe.’

“And then there came warm mouths and finger-tipsPreying upon me, whence I could not see,Then ... a huge face, low browed, with swollen lipsCrooning ‘I am not beautiful as she,But I’m the older love; you shall love meFar more than Beauty’s self. You have been oursAlways. We are the world’s most ancient powers.’

“And then there came warm mouths and finger-tips

Preying upon me, whence I could not see,

Then ... a huge face, low browed, with swollen lips

Crooning ‘I am not beautiful as she,

But I’m the older love; you shall love me

Far more than Beauty’s self. You have been ours

Always. We are the world’s most ancient powers.’

“First flatterer and then bogy—like a dream!Sir, are you listening? Do you also knowHow close to the soft laughter comes the screamDown yonder?” But his host cried sharply, “No.Leave me alone. Why will you plague me? Go!Out of my house! Begone.”—“With all my heart,”Said Dymer. “But one word before we part.”

“First flatterer and then bogy—like a dream!

Sir, are you listening? Do you also know

How close to the soft laughter comes the scream

Down yonder?” But his host cried sharply, “No.

Leave me alone. Why will you plague me? Go!

Out of my house! Begone.”—“With all my heart,”

Said Dymer. “But one word before we part.”

He paused, and in his cheek the anger burned:Then turning to the table, he poured outMore water. But before he drank he turned—Then leaped back to the window with a shoutFor there—it was no dream—beyond all doubtHe saw the Master crouch with levelled gunCackling in maniac voice, “Run, Dymer, run!”

He paused, and in his cheek the anger burned:

Then turning to the table, he poured out

More water. But before he drank he turned—

Then leaped back to the window with a shout

For there—it was no dream—beyond all doubt

He saw the Master crouch with levelled gun

Cackling in maniac voice, “Run, Dymer, run!”

He ducked and sprang far out. The starless nightOn the wet lawn closed round him every way.Then came the gun-crack and the splash of lightVanished as soon as seen. Cool garden claySlid from his feet. He had fallen and he layFace downward among leaves—then up and onThrough branch and leaf till sense and breath were gone.

He ducked and sprang far out. The starless night

On the wet lawn closed round him every way.

Then came the gun-crack and the splash of light

Vanished as soon as seen. Cool garden clay

Slid from his feet. He had fallen and he lay

Face downward among leaves—then up and on

Through branch and leaf till sense and breath were gone.

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