Vii

(To Him After His Death)

God who can bind the stars eternally With but a breath of spirit speech, a thought; Who can within earth's arms lay the mad sea Unseverably, and count it as sheer naught; With his All-might could bind not you and me. For tho He pressed us heart to burning heart And set then to the passion that enthralls His sanction, still our souls stood e'er apart, As aliens beating fierce against the walls Of dark unsympathy that would upstart. Stood aliens, aye! and would tho we should meet, Beyond the oblivion of unnumbered births, Upon some world where Time cannot repeat The feeblest syllable that once was earth's.