And the far hills appear, when first I wake,
Still blinking, struggling towards the world of men,
And longing—would you turn me back again?
23
“Dreams? I have had my dream too long. I thought
The sun rose for my sake. I ran down blind
And dancing to the abyss. Oh, Sir, I brought
Boy-laughter for a gift to Gods who find
The martyr’s soul too soft But that’s behind.
I’m waking now. They broke me. All ends thus