78 
THE WORLD’S TRAGEDY. 
 
Of one’s soul the grisly ape !  
Get ye forth to Aggereth  
Riding in her golden car  
Yoked to ox and ass that prance  
In their evil Hinnom-dance !  
I am writhing with my death  
Born of the infernal Star. 
 
ALEXANDER 
 
Nay, our lady, we are come 
To thy worship — high and holy ;  
From our heaven-wide halidom 
To the manger dark and lowly 
We have brought taraxacum, 
Mandrake, amrit, myrrh and moly ; 
Many a royal gift of gree 
From the land of Danae, 
From the coral-breeding sea, 
From the steppes of Tartary ! 
 
GOVINDA 
 
I have brought a treasure-chest  
Full of gold, red gold galore,