Page:The ascent of man by Blind, Mathilde.djvu/116

 What of cradled infants starved and stunted?
 * What of woman's nameless martyrdom?

The all-seeing sun shines on unheeding,
 * Shines by night the calm, unruffled moon,

Though the human myriads, preying, bleeding,
 * Put creation harshly out of tune.

"Hence, ah, hence"—I sobbed in quivering passion—
 * "From these fearful haunts of fiendish men!

Better far the plain, carnivorous fashion
 * Which is practised in the lion's den."

And I fled—yet staggering still did follow
 * In the footprints of my shrouded guide—

To the sea-caves echoing with the hollow
 * Immemorial moaning of the tide.

Sinking, swelling roared the wintry ocean,
 * Pitch-black chasms struck with flying blaze,

As the cloud-winged storm-sky's sheer commotion
 * Showed the blank Moon's mute Medusa face