The World’s Tragedy

52 THE WORLD’S TRAGEDY. In our innermost ravines Inaccessible to man, That our perfect peace in Pan Hide from us the knowledge of This eclipse of joy and love ! ALEXANDER Is there nothing but distress In the mystic vision lurking ? IST NYMPH Ah ! but were thy loveliness With the God supremely working ! ALEXANDER Nymph, thy face is like a flower Fairer than the driven foam ! Shining like an honeycomb Is thy body — and thy soul Shoots me to the gilded goal. I shall master yet the hour. SATYRS King of Kings, we bow before Thee ; As our Master we adore Thee.