Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 3).djvu/217



Another, heavier cross's weight I bear; take that from me who can.

What's this? You do not seem to shake With agitation at such prize? You mystery of mysteries! But pray consider, for God's sake

[Stamping.]

This is mere babble of vain speech:— Nothing I learn and nothing teach; You have not grasp'd the smallest shred Of the true sense of what I said. I meant not greatness men compute, And measure by the inch and foot, But that which, viewless, darts and streams, Pierces the soul with frosts and fires, That beckons to impassion'd dreams, And like the starlit heaven inspires— That—leave me! I am worn, oppress'd;— Convince, teach, edify the rest.

[Goes up towards the Church.

[To himself.]

In such a labyrinth who can stray And find an issue? Greatness lay In something that is "viewless," "streams," "Not inchwise measured," "lifts to dreams," And "starlit heaven"? It went so, surely? Has he been lunching prematurely? [Goes.