Page:The Man Who Died Twice (1924).djvu/77

 Fearing to think, he lay as one secure

So long as he lay motionless. If he moved

It might be only to plunge down again

Into a more chaotic incoherence

And a more futile darkness than before.

There was no need of moving, and no need

Of asking; for he knew, as he had known

For years, unheard, that passionate regret

And searching lamentation of the banished,

Who in abandoned exile saw below them

The desecrated lights of a domain

Where they should walk no more. Inaudible

At first, he knew it only as a presence

Intangible, but he knew that it was there;

And as it went up slowly to the stars

Carrying all the sorrow of man with it,

He trembled that he should so long have been