V. PORTRAIT OF THE INCOMPARABLE JOHN COWPER POWYS, ESQ.
When first the rebel hosts were hurled
From heaven,—and as they downward sped
Flashed by them world on glimmering world
Like mileposts on that road of dread,—
One ruined angel by strange chance
On earth lit stranded with spent wing.
There, when revived, he took his stance
In slightly battered triumphing.
And still he stands; though lightning-riven,
More riotous than ere he fell,—
Upon his brow the lights of heaven
Mixed with a foregleam out of hell.