Not unto us the issue of our words
Loosed from our lips in this chaotic world!"
And ere he ceased a voice rang hard behind:
"Ho, Reginald!" confusèd words he spoke,
Who seemed to front the stars with lifted hand,
Absorbed in passion, towering with rage,
And strode away; and Reginald shuddering turned:
"Cursed are they who deify the Curse;
But let us hence; too many such as these
Come hither, passing through the night. And thou,
Wide-wanderer, wherefore hast thou ventured here?"
"Serving the Christ," he said, "I seek the lost,
Who noble were, memory and hope my guides,
Through ways I know not of, obeying God."
"Who names the Christ?" another cried aloud,
Out of the shadows starting; "on earth 't was said,
He sent a sword, not peace. I was his Scourge;
Where is the hand that used me?" and he fled.
And Reginald rose, and drew them both away,
And Victor silent on the left side came;
"Not all are noble here," the leader said;
"Thousands there are who haunt the region's base;"
And moving on, "'t is best to look on them
From far, nor mingle with that multitude;"
Page:The roamer and other poems (1920).djvu/78
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68
THE ROAMER