The Soul of Osiris

THE GATE OF THE SANCTUARY. 69 Seven days a corpse lay desolate—at last Back drew the spirit and the soul aghast To animate that clay—O horrible ! The resurrection pang is hardly past. Yet in awhile I stumbled to my feet To flee—no nightmare could be worse to meet. And, spite of that, I knew some deadlier trap Some worm more poisonous would set—mayhap ! I turned—the path ? My horror was complete— A flaming sword across the earthquake gap. I cried aloud to God in my despair. “ The quest of quests ! I seek it, for I dare ! Moonward ! on, moonward ! ” And the full moon shone, A glory for God’s eyes to dwell upon, A path of silver furrowed in the air, A gateway where an angel might have gone. And forward gleamed a narrow way of earth Crusted with salt : I watch the fairy birth Of countless flashes on the crystal flakes, Forgetting it is only death that makes Its home the centre of that starry girth. Yet, what is life ? The manhood in me wakes. The absolute desire hath hold of me. Death were most welcome in that solemn sea ; So bitter is my life. But carelessness Of life and death and love is on me—yes !