Page:The Man with the Hoe, Markham, 1900.djvu/33

Rh Stand back, ye trembling messengers of ill!

Women, let go my hair: I am the Queen,

A whirlwind and a blaze of swords to quell

Insurgent cities. Let the iron tread

Of armies shake the earth. Look, lofty towers:

Assyria goes by upon the wind!"

And so she babbles by the ancient road,

While cities turned to dust upon the Earth

Rise through her whirling brain to live again—

Babbles all night, and when her voice is dead

Her weary lips beat on without a sound. 5