Page:The ascent of man by Blind, Mathilde.djvu/98

 And I cried: "Since Love, even Love, is mortal,
 * Take, unmake, and break me; let me die."

Then, the twilight's grisly veils dividing,
 * Phantom-like there stole one o'er the plain,

Wavering mists for ever round it gliding
 * Hid the face I strove to scan in vain.

Spake the veiled one: "Solitary weeper,
 * 'Mid the myriad mourners thou'rt but one:

Come, and thou shalt see the awful reaper,
 * Evil, reaping all beneath the sun."

On my hand the clay-cold hand did fasten
 * As it murmured—"Up and follow me;

O'er the thickly peopled earth we'll hasten,
 * Yet more thickly packed with misery."

And I followed: ever in the shadow
 * Of that looming form I fared along;

Now o'er mountains, now through wood and meadow,
 * Or through cities with their surging throng.