IN SLEEP
Reading edition
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, Yet 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 next it seemed that One who did invent Compassion, who alone created pity, Walked, as though called, and hastened as He went 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. Alice Meynell