 | The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston |  |
WARFARE WITH THE GODS.
This man was full of strength once, hope, and fire;
And when the gods derided him, he said:
“O Gods, your curse lies heavy on my head;
Against my peace I know that you conspire;
But, lo! I can defy you. Will ye tire
Yourselves with warfare? Shall my soul fall dead
Because scant blessings on her path are shed?
Some things are left still, dear to my desire;
And when the gods derided him, he said:
“O Gods, your curse lies heavy on my head;
Against my peace I know that you conspire;
But, lo! I can defy you. Will ye tire
Yourselves with warfare? Shall my soul fall dead
Because scant blessings on her path are shed?
Some things are left still, dear to my desire;
“And these shall give me courage in despite.”
“Thou fool!” the gods laughed, and with wrong on wrong,
As seas come wave on wave when winds are strong,
They came against him, and laid waste his might,
Till, utterly humbled, prostrate in their sight,
He fell, and moaned, “My Masters, oh, how long?”
“Thou fool!” the gods laughed, and with wrong on wrong,
As seas come wave on wave when winds are strong,
They came against him, and laid waste his might,
Till, utterly humbled, prostrate in their sight,
He fell, and moaned, “My Masters, oh, how long?”
| The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston | |