VII
So Tolstoy passed, and passing left behind
Not great themes only, but himself a great
And tragic Theme. Another shares his state,
Supreme within the kingdom of the mind,
As he where soul and body meet, combined
In lovely earth-forms. Dostoievsky, late
Thou cam’st into thine own, thy bitter fate
To be an exile; for the world is blind.
But in thy mantic cavern, undismayed
Amongst thy spirits, named and known so well,
Each a familiar, and thyself a shade,
By whitest light of heaven, by reddest hell,
Unscorched, unblinded, wrapt yet unafraid,
And true to thine own Passion, thou dost dwell.
Hesepe, 26th May