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Then from the sombre mystery of the gulfs And from the hollow bosom of the Mask Something crept forth that seemed a shapeless Thought. A fatal Influence upon creatures stole Whose lethal touch pursued the immortal spirit, On life was laid the haunting finger of death And overcast with error, grief and pain The soul's native will for truth and joy and light. A deformation coiled that claimed to be The being's very turn, Nature's true drive. A hostile and perverting Mind at work In every corner ensconced of conscious life Corrupted Truth with her own formulas; Interceptor of the listening of the soul, Afflicting knowledge with the hue of doubt It captured the oracles of the occult gods, Effaced the signposts of Life's pilgrimage, Cancelled the firm rock-edicts graved by Time, And on the foundations of the cosmic Law Erected its bronze pylons of misrule. Even Light and Love by that cloaked danger's spell Turned from the brilliant nature of the gods To fallen angels and misleading suns, Became themselves a danger and a charm, A perverse sweetness, heaven-born malefice: Its power could deform divinest things. A wind of sorrow breathed upon the world; All thought with falsehood was besieged, all act Stamped with defect or with frustration's sign, All high attempt with failure or vain success, But none could know the reason of his fall. The grey Mask whispered and, though no sound was heard, Yet in the ignorant heart a seed was sown That bore black fruit of suffering, death and bale. Out of the chill steppes of a bleak Unseen Invisible, wearing the Night's grey mask, 
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