The God-Eater

CRIOSDA. Hart! Ham! Har! [Maurya, startled, looks up and half rises. Then sits again, with a strange sweet smile of innocence and tenderness.]| Criospa [ Lower.] The world is borne upon thy breast Even as the rose. Wilt thou not lull it into rest, Some strong repose More satisfying than pale sleep ; Than death more long, more deep? Hail! at the twilight as at dawn ! The sunset close Even on the lake as on the lawn ! The red ray glows Across the woven stardrift’s ways In mystery of Maurya’s praise. Hear me, thy priest, at eventide ! These subtler throes Than love’s or life’s, invade, divide The world of woes. Thy smile, thy murmur of delight, be enough To fill the world with life and love ! [He bends over into deep reverence, yet with the air of one expecting a grace.|