To feel the full damnation of a faith
That can believe the voice within the soul
A lying guide which cannot be obey’d
Without foul consciousness of inward sin,—
To plunge you down, and hold you till the cells
Of your pure, guileless heart, all stain’d and steep’d,
Drip only dregs of stagnant viciousness!”
LII.
“You terrify me, Haydn!” I exclaim’d.
“And you have done far more to me!” he cried.