Towards democracy, стр. 100

86 Towards Democracy

Where royalty dwells lonely in spacious chambers, or moves along corridors past scarlet-coated footmen ;

Where young and old at eventide in the dreamy flicker. of firelight sit silent, or go away wandering in thought after the brother, the son, and lover of their dreams, following quickly softly with each and kissing the sacred footsteps through the dark ;

Where the young mother prays for hours bending over the face of her sleeping child; where the young man dreams all night of the face of his new-found friend and the kisses of his lips 7

Where the river glides down by night past the great city broadening to the sea;

I dream the dream.

The wind blows up fresh and cold where the waves are slapping against the jetty; red and green lights skim rapidly over the water ;

The cold light of the half moon stands overhead, breaking its way through combed fleece clouds, the horizon stretches misty white like the edge of an ice-bound sea;

The moon pushes her way for a moment through the: clouds, to look down upon the stilled scene of human toil and suffering; the wind blows up keen against those who still linger on the jetty ;

Keenly it blows away over the waste sea, and wraps | itself round a thousand solitary watchers of the deep.

On the wind I ride,

And dream the dream of the soul’s slow disentanglement ;