Page:Poems of the Great War - Cunliffe.djvu/312

 286 MARGARET WIDDEMER

��THE WAKENED GOD

The War-god wakened drowsily ;

There were gold chains about his hands.

He said : " And who shall reap my lands And bear the tithes to Death for me ?

"The nations stilled my thunderings; They wearied of my steel despair, The flames from out my burning hair :

Is there an ending of such things?"

Low laughed the Earth, and answered : "When Was any changeless law I gave Changed by my sons intent to save,

By puny pitying hands of men ?

"I feel no ruth for some I bear. . . . The swarming, hungering overflow Of crowded millions, doomed to go.

They must destroy who chained you there.

"For some bright stone or shining praise They stint a million bodies' breath. And sell the women, shamed, to death.

And send the men brief length of days.

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