Page:Poems by Isaac Rosenberg (1922).djvu/197



Streaked with immortal blasphemies, Betwixt His twin eternities The Shaper of mortal destinies Sits in that limbo of dreamless sleep, Some nothing that hath shadows deep.

The world is only a small pool In the meadows of Eternity, And men like fishes lying cool; And the wise man and the fool In its depths like fishes lie. When an angel drops a rod And he draws you to the sky Will you bear to meet your God You have streaked with blasphemy?