... "So wronging the being who loves,--the being blindly imagined but of
yesterday,--this mocker mocks the divine in the past of the Soul of the
World. Then in that heart is revived the countless million sorrows
buried in forgotten graves,--all the old pain of Love, in its patient
contest with Hate, since the beginning of Time.
"And the Gods know,--the dim ones who dwell beyond Space,--spinning the
mysteries of Shape and Name. For they sit at the roots of Life; and the
pain runs back to them; and they feel that wrong,--as the Spider feels
in the trembling of her web that a thread is broken...."