| Andrew Macphail, comp. The Book of Sorrow. 1916. | | | XVIII. The Great Mystery
The Black Portals | | By Lloyd Mifflin (1846–1921) |
| | | SPIRIT of mine that soon must venturous spread | |
| Through voids unknown thy feeble, fluttering plumes, | |
| Hast thou no fear to wing those endless glooms? | |
| No apprehension nor misgivings dread? | |
| Those realms unfathomed of the speechless dead, | 5 |
| Which never gleam of eldest star illumes— | |
| Lethean canyons that the Soul entombs— | |
| Art thou not awed such sombre vasts to tread? | |
| My Soul replied: ‘Wisdom hath made all things— | |
| Life and the end of life, He gives to thee. | 10 |
| Down Death’s worn path the mightiest still have trod. | |
| Where laurelled poets and anointed Kings | |
| Have gone for ages, it is good to be— | |
| Rest thou contented with the will of God.’ | | | | |
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