Chapter 17 1880-85.

Stand by,

Ye Wise, by whom Heav'n rules!

Your kingly hands suit not the hangman's tools.

When God has doom'd a glorious Past to die,

Are there no knaves and fools?

For ages yet to come your kind shall count for nought.

Smoke of the strife of other Powers

Than ours,

And tongues inscrutable with fury fraught

'Wilder the sky