The Hunter

I sit within the sodden gloom, Amid the dead that wall the room; Through galleries damp that reek decay, My stumbling feet have groped the way. Mine eyes that shudder at the light Have read the secrets of the night-- From skeletons with toothless jaws I wring the utterance of the laws.

Where foul the spider makes his lair, I con the lesson of his care. In threads too fine for mortal eyes I read Eternal Mysteries. In graves of mouldered love and lust, I search for secrets of the dust; Through palls with time and ashes spread, I plunge my hands among the dead.

Then forth into the light of day, I fare again upon my way. A grain of sand, a blade of grass, Smite me to silence as I pass. In living men and worms I trace Old allegories of the race; In weeds put forth from out the sod I read the Scriptures of my God.

Unto the hills I mount and see The vultures of the mountains flee; My failing eyes I backward cast To glean the harvest of the past. My tottering feet have paused alone Before the barriers of the known-- For onward still, through wrong and ruth, I fare--a hunter of the Truth.