[57]

Till our loves—and our lives—are well known at En-dor)…

Oh the road to En-dor is the oldest road

And the craziest road of all!

Straight it runs to the Witch's abode,

As it did in the days of Saul,

And nothing has changed of the sorrow in store

For such as go down on the road to En-dor!

[58]

A RECANTATION

(TO LYDE OF THE MUSIC HALLS)

What boots it on the Gods to call?

Since, answered or unheard,

We perish with the Gods and all

Things made—except the Word.

Ere certain Fate had touched a heart

By fifty years made cold,

I judged thee, Lyde, and thy art

O'erblown and over-bold.

But he—but he, of whom bereft

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