Page:The city of dreadful night - and other poems (IA cityofdreadfulni00thomrich).pdf/58

 They wax and wane through fusion and confusion; The spheres eternal are a grand illusion, The empyréan is a void abyss.

I wandered in a suburb of the north, And reached a spot whence three close lanes led down, Beneath thick trees and hedgerows winding forth Like deep brook channels, deep and dark and lown: The air above was wan with misty light, The dull grey south showed one vague blur of white.

I took the left-hand lane and slowly trod Its earthen footpath, brushing as I went The humid leafage; and my feet were shod With heavy languor, and my frame downbent, With infinite sleepless weariness outworn, So many nights I thus had paced forlorn.

After a hundred steps I grew aware Of something crawling in the lane below; It seemed a wounded creature prostrate there That sobbed with pangs in making progress slow, The hind limbs stretched to push, the fore limbs then To drag; for it would die in its own den.