Page:The man against the sky; a book of poems.djvu/102

 What lingering bit of Belial, unforeseen, Survives and amplifies itself in you? What manner of devilry has ever been That your obliquity may never do?

Humility befits a father's eyes, But not a friend of us would have him weep. Admiring everything that lives and dies, Theophilus, we like you best asleep.

Sleep—sleep; and let us find another man To lend another name less hazardous: Caligula, maybe, or Caliban, Or Cain,—but surely not Theophilus.