Page:Captain Craig; a book of poems.djvu/80

66 "How, forsooth, Shall any man, by curses or by groans, Or by the laugh-jarred stillness of all hell, Be so drawn down to servitude again That on some backward level of lost laws And undivined relations, he may know No longer Love's imperative resource, Firm once and his, well treasured then, but now Too fondly thrown away? And if there come But once on all his journey, singing down To find him, the gold-throated forward call, What way but one, what but the forward way, Shall after that call guide him? When his ears Have earned an inward skill to methodize The clash of all crossed voices and all noises, How shall he grope to be confused again, As he has been, by discord? When his eyes Have read the book of wisdom in the sun, And after dark deciphered it on earth, How shall he turn them back to scan some huge Blood-lettered protest of bewildered men That hunger while he feeds where they should starve And all absurdly perish?"

Killigrew Looked hard for a subtile object on the wall,