Some day I shall know life whole—
Shall suffer and find me a soul.
The World-Purpose
Men sadly say that Love’s high dream is vain,
That one force holds the heart—the hope of gain.
Are, then, the August Powers behind the veil
Weary of watch and powerless to prevail?
Have they grown palsied with the creep of age,
And do they burn no more with pallid rage?
Are the shrines empty and the altars cold,