Which even in the light of spirit-sun
Still had to feel akin to this our realm.
I seized th’ auspicious hour in which to cast
A glamour o’er its vision of the light
To which in dreams alone it had bowed down.
Yet all my hopes must forthwith disappear
That victory is ours in spirit-realms,
Since thou art worsted, comrade of my fight.
Thou wast unable to o’erpower the soul
Which was to bring our labours to their goal.