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Tiresias

By Thomas Woolner

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The Gods have gone and left the smitten land,
Where lies their anger black in ghastly heaps;
All left of Greeks and their intolerant pride;
Their haughty sages and heroic chiefs;
Their beauty fairer than sweet flowers in bloom;
Their Temples, where the only sacrifice

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Was flesh of beast and gold-bought offering;
Their palaces, where dwelt unkingly kings
Who throve in costly state, and could not rule;
Now all have vanished like a waking dream
That leaves a growing taint of certainty
Its visions but foreshadowed danger near.
Uprising slowly in that wasted scene
Crawl dwindled forms in search for something hid,
That keeps their faces spell-bound near the soil;
Anon, in mockery of ancient deeds
They seem a world of phantoms lacking life.