Page:May-day and other pieces, Emerson, 1867.djvu/100

88 Lauding the Eternal Rights,

Victors over daily wrongs:

Awful victors, they misguide

Whom they will destroy,

And their coming triumph hide

In our downfall, or our joy:

They reach no term, they never sleep,

In equal strength through space abide;

Though, feigning dwarfs, they crouch and creep,

The strong they slay, the swift outstride:

Fate's grass grows rank in valley clods,

And rankly on the castled steep,—

Speak it firmly, these are gods,

All are ghosts beside.