The Cave Of The Unborn

I rose at night and

The Cave of the Unborn,

And crowding shapes surrounded

For tidings of the life to be,

Who long had prayed the silent

To speed their advent morn.

Their eyes were lit with artless trust;

Hope thrilled their every tone:"A place the loveliest, is it not?

A pure delight, a

Where all is gentle, pure and

And ??violence?? is unknown?"My heart was anguished for their sake;

I could not frame a word;

But they descried my sunken

And seemed to read therein, and

The news which Pity would not

Nor Truth leave unaverred.

And as I silently retiredI turned and watched them still:

And they came helter-skelter out,

Driven forward like a rabble

Into the world they had so desired,

By the all-immanent Will.