A Delirium

"So this young life is gone from us — God send
Peace to his soul" — (Amen!) — "and we that grieve
Some little consolation may conceive
In dwelling on the days that death made end,
How stainless" (Seventy-times seven did I offend),
"How full of splendid promise, should he live,
(Kind lips that lie, what promise did I give?)
How well-beloved!" — (Thank God, I had a friend).

I on the wings of some tumultuous night
Adown unceasing silences, along
Wastes where wide-eyed deliriums sink and swell.
By crazy shores and seas that circle wrong.
Bodiless, mindless, without voice or sight.
Speed to the maze and madnesses of Hell.