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Page:Mandragora.djvu/50

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IN THE NIGHT

A CRY like a child's cry lost in the rain
Came to me out of the mist.
I rose and answered that cry again,
    But it went sobbing over the plain
And died into the mist.

And where it had been came the scent of flowers
    Out of a world's distress,
With a moan of gathered thunder-showers
    And a gasping loneliness.

And the gods with their faces wet with crying,
    The old gods strange and wild,
Swept out upon us across the night,
    And — oh mystery, mystery infinite!
The gods and the weeping child and I
    Laughed and kissed in ecstasy!