| W. Garrett Horder, comp. The Poets’ Bible: New Testament. 1895. | | | | “He Commandeth the Unclean Spirits, and They Come out” | | Alfred Norris |
| | | DEAR Lord, I housed a noisome, lying fiend, | |
| Within the secret chambers of my soul; | |
| Entrance he got through one small window screen’d, | |
| And then usurp’d the whole. | |
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| All noble thoughts he dimm’d with evil sneer, | 5 |
| All aspirations laugh’d to bitter scorn; | |
| On Love and Truth he cast his blighting leer, | |
| And Hope died ere ’twas born. | |
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| E’en from a child I bore this noisome fiend | |
| In vain revolt against his passionate might, | 10 |
| Till all my strength was spent. Like one I seem’d | |
| Who long had lost his sight. | |
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| Dear Lord, I lay beneath Thy cross! At first | |
| ’Twas darkly empty; as I groped in fear | |
| I heard the gates of heaven open burst: | 15 |
| I cried, “O Saviour, hear!” | |
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| And not in vain, for on my ear there fell | |
| Thy strong “I will!” and lo! the fiend went forth— | |
| He tore me as he went—a-down to hell, | |
| Raving, and bitter wroth. | 20 |
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| Came swinging from the pit a hoarse, fell noise, | |
| As to their chain-lengths wallowing fiends up-swung, | |
| High heaven lay calmly on its equipoise, | |
| Sweetly the angels sung. | | | | |
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