Songs of the Spirit

To set snares, by night, and makes afraid The spirits’ holy might with one slight maid Visioned and unsubsisting save in foreign thought, To its own strength a slave by witchcraft brought ! This is not Love but Lust, not Life but Death is found, All the halls of sense with strife cry and resound. The Brain awakes in wrath ; behold ! the foemen flee, All the earth is clad with gold and all the sea ; Driven back the demons yield, falter and cease ; For a little while the shield of sleep is peace. Clear and bright the lamp burns ; clean and sharp the sword, While I watch their paths between before the Lord. 62