Allan Chase

“That motley drama”

“The Conqueror Worm Lo! 'tis a gala night Within the lonesome latter years! An angel throng, bewinged, bedight In veils, and drowned in tears, Sit in a theatre, to see A play of hopes and fears, While the orchestra breathes fitfully The music of the spheres. Mimes, in the form of God on high, Mutter and mumble low, And hither and thither fly”

“Lo! ’tis a gala night Within the lonesome latter years!An angel throng, bewinged, bedight In veils, and drowned in tears,Sit in a theatre, to see A play of hopes and fears,While the orchestra breathes fitfully The music of the spheres.Mimes, in the form of God on high, Mutter and mumble low,And hither and thither fly”