XIV
Ideal
When all my gentle friends had gone
I wandered in the night alone:
Beneath the green electric glare
I saw men pass with hearts of stone;
Yet still I heard them everywhere,
The golden voices of the air:
"Friend, we will go to hell with thee,
Thy griefs, thy glories we will share,
And rule the land and shake the sea
And set a thousand devils free—:"
"What dost thou, Stranger, at my side,
Thou gaunt old man accosting me?
Away, this is my night of pride!
On Satan's horses I will ride,
And I will seek delightful things."
The old man answered: "Woe betide!"
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