Xiii

Now, you shall see And judge if a mere foppery Pricks on my speaking! I resolve To utter--yes, it shall devolve On you to hear as solemn, strange And dread a thing as in the range Of facts,--or fancies, if God will-- E'er happened to our kind! I still Stand in the cloud and, while it wraps My face, ought not to speak perhaps; Seeing that if I carry through My purpose, if my words in you Find a live actual listener, My story, reason must aver False after all--the happy chance! While, if each human countenance I meet in London day by day, Be what I fear,--my warnings fray No one, and no one they convert, And no one helps me to assert How hard it is to really be A Christian, and in vacancy I pour this story!