The World’s Tragedy

I24 THE WORLD’S TRAGEDY. The beastliness they have become. Wealth complaining in its stye ! Stark starvation standing by ! Poet, painter, sculptor, sage Prostituted to their age ; Or starved or tortured, should they hold To the clear sunlight and the age of gold, — Scarce a tithe of all I see, Yet — thou dost not pity me ? ALEXANDER Thou art near death : thy corpse light dawns on us. See ! the tenebrous glare and venomous And all it shews. Enough ! I leave thee, man, To hide me in the secret place of Pan Beneath the fallen groves Arcadian. He fades away, as if the new light, making the filth visible, made him invisible. ISSA I am nailed here too fast : — I strain in agony aghast ; For I have blotted out the sun From the sight of everyone.