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- IN THE NIGHT
A CRY like a child's cry lost in the rain
Came to me out of the mist.
I rose and answered that cry again,
But it went sobbing over the plain
And died into the mist.
And where it had been came the scent of flowers
Out of a world's distress,
With a moan of gathered thunder-showers
And a gasping loneliness.
And the gods with their faces wet with crying,
The old gods strange and wild,
Swept out upon us across the night,
And — oh mystery, mystery infinite!
The gods and the weeping child and I
Laughed and kissed in ecstasy!
