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And I could not remember their beginnings； I was doomed to wander
evermore； Thirsty； with the sound of mocking waters in mine ears；
Groping； with gleams of useless light Splashed in ironic beauty on the
rocks above。 And so I whined。
And then despair flashed into rage； I leapt erect； and cried： 〃Could I
but grasp my life as sculptors grasp the clay And knead and thrust it into
shape again！ If all the scorn of Heaven were but thrown Into the focus of
some creature I could clutch！ If something tangible were but vouchsafed
me By the cold； far gods！ If they but sent a Reason for the failure of my
life I'd answer it； If they but sent a Fiend； I'd conquer it！
But I reach out； and grasp the air； I rage； and the brute rock echoes my
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words in mockery How can one fight the sliding moonlight on the
cliffs？ You gods； coward gods； Come down； I challenge you！ You who
set snares with roses and with passion； You who make flesh beautiful and
damn men through the flesh； You who plump the purple grape and
then put poison in the cup； You who put serpents in your Edens； You
who gave me delight of my senses and broke me for it； You who
have mingled death with beauty； You who have put into my blood the
impulses for which you cursed me； You who permitted my brain the
doubts wherefore you damn me； Behold； I doubt you； gods； no
longer； but defy！ I perish here？ Then I will be slain of a god！ You who
have wrapped me in the scorn of your silence； The divinity in this same
dust you flout
i》Flames through the dust； And dares； And flings you back your
scorn； Come； face to face； and slay me if you will； But not until you've
felt the weight Of all betricked humanity's contempt In one bold blow！
Speak forth a Reason； and I will answer it； Yes； to your faces I will answer
it； Come garmented in flesh and I will fight with you； Yes； in your faces
will I smite you； gods； Coward gods and tricksters that set traps In
paradise！ Far gods that hedge yourselves about with silence And with
distance； That mock men from the unscalable escarpments of your
Heavens。〃
Thus I raved； being mad。 I had no sooner finished speaking than I felt
The darkness fluttered by approaching feet； And the silence was burned
through by trembling flames of sound； And I was 'ware that
Something stood by me。
And with a shout I leapt and grasped that Being； And the Thing
grasped me。 We came to wrestling grips； And back and forth we swayed；
Hand seeking throat； and crook'd knee seeking To encrook unwary leg；
And spread toes grasping the uneven ground； The strained breast muscles
cracked and creaked； The sweat ran in my eyes； The plagued breath
sobbed and whistled through my throat； I tasted blood； and strangled；
but still struggled on The stars above me danced in swarms like
yellow bees； The shaken moonlight writhed upon the rocks； But at
the last I felt his breathing weaker grow； The tense limbs grow less tense；
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And with a bursting cry I bent his head right back； Back； back； until I
heard his neck bones snap； His spine crunched in my grip； I flung him to
the earth and knelt upon his breast
And listened till the fluttering pulse was stilled。 Man； god； or devil； I
had wrenched the life from him！ And lo！even as he died The
moonlight failed above the vale； And somehow； sure； I know now how！
Between the rifted rocks the great Sun struck A finger down the cliff； and
that red beam Lay sharp across the face of him that I had slain； And in that
light I read the answer of the silent gods Unto my cursed…out prayer；
For he that lay upon the ground wasI！ I understood the lesson then； It
was myself that lay there dead； Yes； I had slain my Self。
THE REBEL
No doubt the ordered worlds speed on With purpose in their wings；
No doubt the ordered songs are sweet Each worthy angel sings； And
doubtless it is wise to heed The ordered words of Kings；
But how the heart leaps up to greet The headlong； rebel flight；
Whenas some reckless meteor Blazes across the night！ Some comet
ByronLucifer Has dared to Be； and fight！
No doubt but it is safe to dwell Where ordered duties are； No doubt
the cherubs earn their wage Who wind each ticking star；
No doubt the system is quite right！ Sane； ordered； regular；
But how the rebel fires the soul Who dares the strong gods' ire！
Each Byron！Shelley！Lucifer！ And all the outcast choir That chant
when some Prometheus Leaps up to steal Jove's fire！
THE CHILD AND THE MILL
BETTER a pauper； penniless； asleep on the kindly sod Better a
gipsy； houseless； but near to the heart of God；
That beats for ears not dulled by the clanking wheels of care
Better starvation and freedom； hope and the good fresh air
Than death to the Something in him that was born to laugh and
dream； That was kin to the idle lilies and the ripples of the stream。
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For out of the dreams of childhood； that careless come and go；
The boy gains strength； unknowing； that the Man will prove and
know。
But these fools with their lies and their dollars； their mills and
their bloody hands； Who make a god of a wheel； who worship their
whirring bands；
They are flinging the life of a people； raw； to the brute machines。
Dull…eyed； weary； and oldold in his early teens
Stunted and stupid and twisted； marred in the mills of grief； Can
your factories fashion a Man of this thing a Man and a Chief？
Dumb is the heart of him now； at the time when his heart should
sing Wasters of body and brain； what race will the future bring？
What of the nation's nerve whenas swift crises come？ What of
the brawn that should heave the guns on the beck of the drum？
Thieves of body and soul； who can neither think nor feel；
Swine…eyed priests of little false gods of gold and steel；
Bow to your obscene altars； worship your loud mills then！ Feed
to Moloch and Baal the brawn and brains of men
But silent and watchful and hidden forever over all The masters
brood of those Mills that 〃grind exceeding small。〃
And it needs no occult art nor magic to foreshow That a people who
sow defeat they will reap the thing they sow。
〃SIC TRANSIT GLORIA MUNDI〃
CONQUERORS leonine； lordly； Princes and vaunting kings； Ye are
drunk with the sound of your braggart trumps But lo！ ye are
little things！
Earth 。 。 。 it is charnel with monarchs！ And the puffs of dust that
start Where your war steeds stamp with their ringing hoofs Were each
some warrior's heart。
Peoples imperial； mighty； Masterful； challenging fate； The tread of
your cohorts shakes the hills But lo！ ye are not great！
Nations that swarm and murmur； Ye are moths that flutter and
climb Ye are whirling gnats； ye are swirling bees； Tossed in the winds
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of time！
Earth that is flushed with glory； A marvelous world ye are！ But lo！
in the midst of a million stars Ye are only one pale star！
A breath stirs the dark abysses。 。 。 。 The deeps below the deep Are
troubled and vexed 。 。 。 and a thousand worlds