A man may weigh the courage of a man,
But if there be a bottomless abyss
It is a woman’s valour:  such as I
Can only bow the knee and hide the face
(Thank God there is no God to spy on me
And bring his cursed crowns). 
            No, there is none: 
The old incurable hunger of the world
Surges in wolfish wars, age after age. 
There was no God before me:  none sees where,
Between the brute-womb and the deaf, dead grave,
Unhoping, unrecorded, unrepaid,
I make with smoke, fire, and burnt-offering
This sacrifice to Chaos. [Lights the papers.] None behold
Me write in fire the end of the romance. 
Burn!  I am God, and crown myself with stars. 
Upon creation day:  before was night
And chaos of a blind and cruel world. 
I am the first God; I will trample hell,
Fight, conquer, make the story of the stars,
Like this poor story, end like a romance: 

[The paper burns.]

Before was brainless night:  but I am God
In this black world I rend.  Let there be light!

[The paper blazes up, illuminating the garden.]

I, God ...

THE WILD KNIGHT [rushes forward].

God’s Light!  God’s Voice; yes, it is He
Walking in Eden in the cool of the day!

LORD ORM [screams].

Tricked!  Caught! 
Damned screeching rat in a hole!

[Stabs him again and again with his sword; stamps on his face.]

THE WILD KNIGHT [faintly].

Earth grows too beautiful around me:  shapes
And colours fearfully wax fair and clear,
For I have heard, as thro’ a door ajar,
Scraps of the huge soliloquy of God
That moveth as a mask the lips of man,
If man be very silent:  they were right,
No flesh shall look upon the Lord and live.

[Dies.]

LORD ORM [staggers back laughing].

Saved, saved, my secret.

REDFEATHER [rushing in, sword in hand].

The drawn sword at last! 
Guard, son of hell!

[They fight.  ORM falls.  OLIVE comes in.]

He too can die.  Keep back! 
Olive, keep back from him!  I did not fear
Him living, and he fell before my sword;
But dead I fear him.  All is ended now;
A man’s whole life tied in a bundle there,
And no good deed.  I fear him.  Come away.

GOOD NEWS

Between a meadow and a cloud that sped
  In rain and twilight, in desire and fear. 
  I heard a secret—­hearken in your ear,
‘Behold the daisy has a ring of red.’

That hour, with half of blessing, half of ban,
  A great voice went through heaven, and earth and hell,
  Crying, ’We are tricked, my great ones, is it well? 
Now is the secret stolen by a man.’

Then waxed I like the wind because of this,
  And ran, like gospel and apocalypse,
  From door to door, with new anarchic lips,
Crying the very blasphemy of bliss.