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he clothes them with thunders and beauty； he clothes them with
music and fire； Seeing not； as he bows by their altars； that he
worships his own desire； And mixed with his trust there is terror； and
mixed with his madness is ruth； And every man grovels in error； yet every
man glimpses a truth。
For all of the creeds are false； and all of the creeds are true；
And low at the shrines where my brothers bow； there will I bow；
too；
For no form of a god； and no fashion Man has made in his desperate
passion But is worthy some worship of mine； Not too hot with a gross
belief； Nor yet too cold with pride； I will bow me down where my
brothers bow； Humblebut open…eyed！
UNREST A FIERCE unrest seethes at the core Of all existing
things： It was the eager wish to soar That gave the gods their wings。
From what flat wastes of cosmic slime； And stung by what quick
fire； Sunward the restless races climb！ Men risen out of mire！
There throbs through all the worlds that are This heart…beat hot and
strong； And shaken systems； star by star； Awake and glow in song。
But for the urge of this unrest These joyous spheres were mute； But
for the rebel in his breast Had man remained a brute。
When baffled lips demanded speech； Speech trembled into birth
（One day the lyric word shall reach From earth to laughing earth）
When man's dim eyes demanded light The light he sought was
born His wish； a Titan； scaled the height And flung him back the
morn！
From deed to dream； from dream to deed； From daring hope to
hope； The restless wish； the instant need； Still lashed him up the slope！
。 。 。 。 。 。
I sing no governed firmament； Cold； ordered； regular I sing the
stinging discontent That leaps from star to star！
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DREAMS & DUST
THE PILTDOWN SKULL
WHAT was his life； back yonder In the dusk where time began；
This beast uncouth with the jaw of an ape And the eye and brain of a
man？ Work； and the wooing of woman； Fight； and the lust of fight；
Play； and the blind beginnings Of an Art that groped for light？
In the wonder of redder mornings； By the beauty of brighter seas；
Did he stand； the world's first thinker； Scorning his clan's decrees？
Seeking； with baffled eyes； In the dumb； inscrutable skies； A name for the
greater glory That only the dreamer sees？
One day； when the afterglows； Like quick and sentient things；
With a rush of their vast； wild wings； Rose out of the shaken ocean
As great birds rise from the sod； Did the shock of their sudden splendor
Stir him and startle and thrill him； Grip him and shake him and fill him
With a sense as of heights untrod？ Did he tremble with hope and vision；
And grasp at a hint of God？
London stands where the mammoth Caked shag flanks with slime
And what are our lives that inherit The treasures of all time？ Work； and
the wooing of woman； Fight； and the lust of fight； A little play （and too
much toil！） With an Art that gropes for light； And now and then a
dreamer； Rapt； from his lonely sod Looks up and is thrilled and startled
With a fleeting sense of God！
THE SEEKER
THE creeds he wrought of dream and thought Fall from him at the
touch of life； His old gods fail him in the strife Withdrawn； the
heavens he sought！
Vanished； the miracles that led； The cloud at noon； the flame at
night； The vision that he wing'd and sped Falls backward； baffled； from
the height；
Yet in the wreck of these he stands Upheld by something grim and
strong； Some stubborn instinct lifts a song And nerves him； heart and
hands：
He does not dare to call it hope； It is not aught that seeks reward
Nor faith； that up some sunward slope Runs aureoled to meet its
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DREAMS & DUST
lord；
It touches something elder far Than faith or creed or thought in man；
It was ere yet these lived and ran Like light from star to star；
It touches that stark； primal need That from unpeopled voids and
vast Fashioned the first crude； childish creed； And still shall fashion；
till the last！
For one word is the tale of men： They fling their icons to the sod；
And having trampled down a god They seek a god again！
Stripped of his creeds inherited； Bereft of all his sires held true；
Amid the wreck of visions dead He thrills at touch of visions new。 。 。 。
He wings another Dream for flight。 。 。 。 He seeks beyond the
outmost dawn A god he set there 。 。 。 and； anon； Drags that god from the
height！
。 。 。 。 。 。
But aye from ruined faiths and old That droop and die； fall bruised
seeds； And when new flowers and faiths unfold They're lovelier
flowers； they're kindlier creeds。
THE AWAKENING
THE steam； the reek； the fume； of prayer Blown outward for a
million years； Becomes a mist between the spheres； And waking
Sentience struggles there。
Prayer still creates the boon we pray； And gods we've hoped for；
from those hopes Will gain sufficient form one day And in full
godhood storm the slopes Where ancient Chaos； stark and gray； Already
trembles for his sway。
When that the restless worlds would fly Their wish created rapid
wings； But not till aeons had passed by With dower of many idler
things； And when dumb flesh demanded speech Speech struggled to the
lips at last； Now the unpeopled Void； and vast；
Clean to that uttermost blank beach Whereto the boldest thought may
reach That voyages from the vaguest past （Dim realm and ult