You shall enact a vast experiment,

Whereof the pregnant sequel none may know

Save only him, the master magian,

Whose prentices we gods and titans are,

And the blind wills of men his medium.

For he, with silent face from us averted,

Holds in the awful hollow of his hand

The world—his crucible, and plies with them

[Pg 27]

Ordeals of anguish and of ecstasy.

Therefore the earth must be your place of passion,

And there in slumber, even as mortals dream,

Slumb’ring, that they are bright immortal gods,

You shall be mortals, and shall walk as men,

Forgetful of your immortality.

[Faintly, as from a great distance, there rises a sound of

many voices crying, “Odin! Asa Odin!” and the rumour

of beasts in pain.]

Hark, now! from far below us, the deep moan

And lowing of a mortal sacrifice.

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