Page:Hand in hand; (IA handinhand00kipl).pdf/76



O God Tezcatlepoca, the "world's soul," They offered sacrifices long ago. One year of all the pleasures man may know The victim had. Then came the folded scroll, The world's farewell: the long-expected goal That block of jasper where they stretched him low, The flint-edged knife, the measured ripping blow, The hand that wrenched his heart out through the hole.

My feasting-time is over, and I see The world receding. Friendship, love, and art, The singing-women, flowers, revelry, Have vanished I lie naked, set apart This is the death-stone. What remains for me? The grasping fingers that shall tear my heart.