Page:A father of women, and other poems, Meynell, 1917.djvu/27

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IN SLEEP

I DREAMT (no "dream" awake—a dream indeed)
A wrathful man was talking in the park:
"Where are the Higher Powers, who know our need
 And leave us in the dark?


"There are no Higher Powers; there is no heart
In God, no love"—his oratory here,
Taking the paupers' and the cripples' part,
 Was broken by a tear.


And then it seemed that One who did create
Compassion, who alone invented pity,
Walked, as though called, in at that north-east gate,
 Out from the muttering city;


Threaded the little crowd, trod the brown grass,
Bent o'er the speaker close, saw the tear rise,
And saw Himself, as one looks in a glass,
 In those impassioned eyes.

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