There are some qualities, some incorporate things, That have a double life, which thus is made A type of that twin entity which springs From matter and light, evinced in solid and shade. There is a twofold Silence--sea and shore, 5 Body and soul. One dwells in lonely places, Newly with grass o'ergrown; some solemn graces, Some human memories and tearful lore, Render him terrorless: his name's "No More." He is the corporate Silence: dread him not: 10 No power hath he of evil in himself; But should some urgent fate (untimely lot!) Bring thee to meet his shadow (nameless elf, That haunteth the lone regions where hath trod No foot of man), commend thyself to God! 15 THE CONQUEROR WORM Lo! 't is a gala night Within the lonesome latter years. An angel throng, bewinged, bedight In veils, and drowned in tears, Sit in a theatre to see 5 A play of hopes and fears, While the orchestra breathes fitfully The music of the spheres. Mimes, in the form of God on high, Mutter and mumble low, 10 And hither and thither fly; Mere puppets they, who come and go At bidding of vast formless things That shift the scenery to and fro, Flapping from out their condor wings 15 Invisible Woe. That motley drama--oh, be sure It shall not be forgot! With its Phantom chased for evermore By a crowd that seize it not, 20 Through a circle that ever returneth in To the self-same spot; And much of Madness, and more of Sin, And Horror the soul of the plot. But see amid the mimic rout 25 A crawling shape, intrude: A blood-red thing that writhes from out The scenic solitude! It writhes--it writhes!--with mortal pangs The mimes become its food, 30 And seraphs sob at vermin fangs In human gore imbued. Out--out are the lights--out all! And over each quivering form The curtain, a funeral pall, 35 Comes down with the rush of a storm, While the angels, all pallid and wan, Uprising, unveiling, affirm That the play is the tragedy, "Man," And its hero, the Conqueror Worm. 40 DREAM-LAND