"Lips that now tremble,
Do you dissemble
When you deny that the human is best?--
Love, the evangel,
Finds the Archangel?
Is that a truth when this may be a jest?

"Star-drifts that glimmer
Dimmer and dimmer,
What do ye know of my weal or my woe?
Was I born under
The sun or the thunder?
What do I come from? and where do I go?

"Rest, shall it ever
Come? Is endeavour
But a vain twining and twisting of cords?
Is faith but treason;
Reason, unreason,
But a mechanical weaving of words?"

He thought of Louis Trudel, in his grave, and his own questioning: "Show
me a sign from Heaven, tailorman!" and he wrote:

"What is the token,
Ever unbroken,
Swept down the spaces of querulous years,
Weeping or singing
That the Beginning
Of all things is with us, and sees us, and hears?"