Page:Poets of John Company.djvu/133

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Though the world repent of its cruel youth,
 * And in age grow soft, and its hard law bend,

Ye may spare or slaughter; by rage or ruth
 * All forms speed on to the far still end;

For the gods who have mercy, who save or bless, Are the visions of man in his hopelessness.

Let my temples fall, they are dark with age,
 * Let my idols break, they have stood their day;

On their deep hewn stones the primeval sage
 * Has figured the spells that endure alway;

My presence may vanish from river and grove, But I rule for ever in Death and Love.

What far-reaching Nemesis steered him
 * From his home by the cool of the sea?

When he left the fair country that reared him,
 * When he left her, his mother, for thee,

That restless, disconsolate worker
 * Who strains now in vain at thy nets,

O sultry and sombre Noverca!
 * O Land of Regrets!

What lured him to life in the tropic?
 * Did he venture for fame or for pelf?

Did he seek a career philanthropic?
 * Or simply to better himself?

But whate'er the temptation that brought him,
 * Whether piety, dullness, or debts.

He is thine for a price, thou hast bought him,
 * O Land of Regrets!