Page:The Man Who Died Twice (1924).djvu/63

 Would come, and coming might be used. He smiled

And closed his eyes, finding an awkward humor

In such an unforeseen enfranchisement

From such a long and thwarting servitude.

A calm that all his life had been a stranger

To the confusions that were born with him

Composed and overpowered him as he felt,

Enveloping and persuading body and brain

Together, a cool relief as if warm wings

Were in the air above him. So there he lay,

Without a motion or a wish to move,

And with a sense of having only to rise

And give his hands to life. A grateful shame

For all his insults to the Holy Ghost

That were forgiven was like an anodyne

Laid on a-buried wound somewhere within him,