Songs of the Spirit

THE STUDENT. THERE is a gate of brass, within whose clang Gold and fair stones abide. But I essayed The path. I thundered with assaulting blade On that grim fortress, whose hard iron rang At my strong summons. As their fury sprang Open at last I crossed their threshold, prayed Reward for courage. To my soul dismayed These voices their loud chant of terror sang : “ Thou hast not kept thy trust. To storm the gates Were to have found out God and all delight, Conquered for all thy fellow-men the fates, And found out Paradise in Hell’s despite.” I heard them laugh, the Harpies and the Hates . . . Then fell, like death, the intolerable night. 31