XXIX

The Black Riders and Other Lines (1895)

Behold, from the land of the farther sunsI returned.And I was in a reptile-swarming place,Peopled, otherwise, with grimaces,Shrouded above in black impenetrableness.I shrank, loathing,Sick with it.And I said to him,“What is this?”He made answer slowly,“Spirit, this is a world;This was your home.”