XXXVIII
I read the awful words he said—
“Why am I thus disquieted?”
“Disquieted”—what dreamless sleep
Weighed on his eyelids calm and deep?
XXXIX
Thereat I shook from head to foot—
I made no cry, my heart was mute;
I could not call on God, nor pray,
For all my faith had fled away.
XL
As when a man, who in a dream
To slide down some blank wall shall seem,
Clutches at air, strikes out in vain
His helpless hands and shrieks with pain,
XLI
While all the air with mocking eyes
Is full, foul shapes and soundless cries
That laugh to scorn his deadly fear
With laughter that he swoons to hear,