Page:A treasury of war poetry, British and American poems of the world war, 1914-1919.djvu/140

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HAT gods have met in battle to arouse

This whirling shadow of invisible things,

These hosts that writhe amid the shattered sods?

O Father, and O Mother of the gods,

Is there some trouble in the heavenly house?

We who are captained by its unseen kings

Wonder what thrones are shaken in the skies,

What powers who held dominion o'er our will

Let fall the sceptre, and what destinies

The younger gods may drive us to fulfil.

Have they not swayed us, earth's invisible lords,

With whispers and with breathings from the dark?

The very border stones of nations mark

Where silence swallowed some wild prophet's words

That rang but for an instant and were still,

Yet were so burthened with eternity,

They maddened all who heard to work their will,

To raise the lofty temple on the hill,

And many a glittering thicket of keen swords

Flashed out to make one law for land and sea,

That earth might move with heaven in company.

The cities that to myriad beauty grew

Were altars raised unto old gods who died,

And they were sacrificed in ruins to

The younger gods who took their place of pride;

They have no brotherhood, the deified,

No high companionship of throne by throne,

But will their beauty still to be alone.

What is a nation but a multitude

United by some god-begotten mood,

Some hope of liberty or dream of power

That have not with each other brotherhood

But warred in spirit from their natal hour,