Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 3).djvu/239



[Jostled in the throng.]

Mayor, Mayor, control them, pray!

All my words are thrown away!

[To .]

Speak to them, and cast a gleam On their spirits' troubled stream! What you summon'd us to see, Was it Feast or foolery?

O, there stirs a current, then, In these stagnant waters.—Men, At the crossway stand ye: choose! Wholly ye must will to lose The old vesture of your lust, Utterly anew be clad, Ere our Temple from the dust Rises, as it shall and must!

He is raving!

He is mad!

Yes, I was so, when I thought Ye in some sense also wrought For the God who hateth Lies! When I dream'd that I could lure To your hearts His Spirit pure