Through all the centuries and in all the regions,
Not of your speed and variance WE complain. 35

WE do not ask a longer term of strife,
Weakness and weariness and nameless woes;
We do not claim renewed and endless life
When this which is our torment here shall close,
An everlasting conscious inanition! 40
We yearn for speedy death in full fruition,
Dateless oblivion and divine repose.



XIV

Large glooms were gathered in the mighty fane,
With tinted moongleams slanting here and there;
And all was hush: no swelling organ-strain,
No chant, no voice or murmuring of prayer;
No priests came forth, no tinkling censers fumed, 5
And the high altar space was unillumed.

Around the pillars and against the walls
Leaned men and shadows; others seemed to brood
Bent or recumbent in secluded stalls.
Perchance they were not a great multitude 10
Save in that city of so lonely streets
Where one may count up every face he meets.

All patiently awaited the event