The End of Fear

Though the whole heaven be one eyed with the moon,

Though the dead landscape seem a thing possessed,

As one that singeth through the flowers of June.

Yet I go singing through a land oppressed.


No more, with forrest-fingers crawling free

O’er dark flint wall that seems a wall of eyes,

Shall evil break my soul with mysteries

Of some world-poison maddening bush and tree.


No more shall leering ghosts of pimp and king

With bloody secrets veiled before me stand.

Last night I held all evil in my hand

Closed; and behold it was a little thing.


I broke the infernal gates and looked on him

Who fronts the strong creation with a curse;

Even the gods of a lost summer universe,

Smiling above his hideous cherubim.


And pierced far down in his soul’s crypt unriven

The last black crooked sympathy and shame,

And hailed him with that ringing rainbow name

Erased upon the oldest book in heaven.


Like emptied idiot masks, sin’s love and wars

Stare at me now: for in the night I broke

The bubble of the great world’s jest, and woke

Laughing with laughter such as shakes the stars.


G. K. Chesterton, The Works of G. K. Chesterton, p.163-4

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