Page:The Statues in the Block and Other Poems (1881).djvu/51



ASHED to the planet, glaring at the sky, An eagle at his heart—the Pagan Christ!

Why is it, Mystery? O, dumb Darkness, why Have always men, with loving hearts themselves, Made devils of their gods?

The whirling globe Bears round man's sweating agony of blood, That Might may gloat above impotent Pain!

Man's soul is dual—he is half a fiend, And from himself he typifies Almighty.