Descending. Then those idiots, kerne and slave -
The mighty flame into itself takes all -
Full swarm will fly to meet him! Fool! fool! fool!
The man hath snared me with those gifts he sent;
Else had I barred the mountains: now 'twere late,
My people in revolt. Whole weeks his horde
Will throng my courts, demanding board and bed,
With hosts by Dichu sent to flout my pang,
And sorer make my charge. My granaries sacked,
My larder lean as ship six months ice-bound,
The man I hate will rise, and open shake
The invincible banner of his mad new Faith,
Till all that hear him shout, like winds or waves,
Belief; and I be left sole recusant;
Or else perhaps that Fury who prevails
At times o'er knee-joints of reluctant men,
By magic imped, may crumble into dust
By force my disbelief."

He raised his head,
And lo, before him lay the sea far ebbed
Sad with a sunset all but gone: the reeds
Sighed in the wind, and sighed a sweeter voice
Oft heard in childhood--now the last time heard:
"Believe!" it whispered. Vain the voice! That hour,
Stirred from the abyss, the sins of all his life
Around him rose like night--not one, but all -
That earliest sin which, like a dagger, pierced
His mother's heart; that worst, when summer drouth
Parched the brown vales, and infants thirsting died,