The Winged Beetle

38 THE GARDEN OF JANUS Broke in that space and wrapped it in a robe Of glory ; of how One most white Withdrew that Whole, and hid it in the lobe Of his right Ear, So that the Universe one dewdrop did appear. XI Yea ! and the end revealed a word, a spell, An incantation, a device Whereby the Eye of the Most Terrible Wakes from Its wilderness of ice To flame, whereby the very core of hell Bursts from its rind, Sweeping the world away into the blank of mind. XII So then I saw my fault ; I plunged within The well, and brake the images That I had made, as I must make—Men spin The webs that snare them—while the knees Bend to the tyrant God, or unto Sin The lecher sunder ! Ah ! came that undulant light from over or from under ? XIII It matters not. Come, change ! Come, woe! Come, mask ! Drive Light, Life, Love into the deep ! In vain we labour at the loathsome task Not knowing if we wake or sleep ;