In sculptured worship now he lives,
His one desire a prisoned ache;
If he can never melt again
His very heart will break.

II

_Laughing It Out_

He had a whim and laughed it out
Upon the exit of a chance;
He floundered in a sea of doubt--
If life was real--or just romance.

Sometimes upon his brow would come
A little pucker of defiance;
He totalled in a word the sum
Of all man made of facts and science.

And then a hearty laugh would break,
A reassuring shrug of shoulder;
And we would from his fancy take
A faith in death which made life bolder.

III

_Exit_

No, his exit by the gate