In Tesla's Laboratory

[From the Century Magazine.]

Here in the dark what ghostly figures press ! -
No phantom of the Past, or grim or sad;
No wailing spirit of woe; no specter, clad
In white and wandering cloud, whose dumb distress
Is that its crime it never may confess;
No shape from the strewn sea; nor they that add
The link of Life and Death-the tearless mad,
That live nor die in dreary nothingness.

But blessed spirits waiting to be born -
Thoughts, to unlock the fettering chains of Things;
The Better Time; the Universal God.
Their smile is like the joyous break of morn;
How fair, how near, how wistfully they brood!
Listen that murmur is of angels' wings.