Page:The city of dreadful night - and other poems (IA cityofdreadfulni00thomrich).pdf/37

 This all-too-humble soul would arrogate Unto itself some signalising hate From the supreme indifference of Fate!"

Who is most wretched in this dolorous place? I think myself; yet I would rather be My miserable self than He, than He Who formed such creatures to His own disgrace.

The vilest thing must be less vile than Thou From whom it had its being, God and Lord! Creator of all woe and sin! abhorred, Malignant and implacable! I vow

That not for all Thy power furled and unfurled, For all the temples to Thy glory built, Would I assume the ignominious guilt Of having made such men in such a world."

As if a Being, God or Fiend, could reign, At once so wicked, foolish and insane, As to produce men when He might refrain!

The world rolls round for ever like a mill; It grinds out death and life and good and ill; It has no purpose, heart or mind or will.