WORMWOOD ^NIGHTSHADE 



With one who has long been sleeping, 



A stranger to doubts and cares, 

 And to sowing that ends in reaping 



Thistles and thorns, and tares. 



What might be ! — the dreams were scatter'd. 



As chaff is toss'd by the wind, 

 The faith has been rudely shattered, 



That listen'd with credence blind ; 

 Things were to have been, and therefore 



They were, and they are to be, 

 And will be ; — we must prepare for 



The doom we are bound to dree. 



Ah, me ! we believe in evil. 



Where once we believed in good, 

 The world, the flesh, and the devil, 



Are easily understood ; 

 The world, the flesh, and the devil, 



Their traces on earth are plain ; 

 Must they always riot and revel 



While footprints of man remain ? 



Talk about better and wiser, 



Wiser and worse are one, 



103 



