Page:The Poet in the Desert.djvu/76

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"So that her blood runs down to the ground.

"Oh, God, thou pilest up dead things which we worship.

"To thee we feed the Earth, and her abundance,

"The stars and their beauty.

"The thinkers who patiently unravel

"The careful secrets of the universe.

"All who make water to gush from the rocks ;

"All who cause the deserts to blossom.

"We feed thee the men who might become as gods,

"And the women, the lilies of the world.

"Brotherhod, mirth, love ; genius, art, poesy and thought ;

"Those who hold the lamp on high ;

"Those who strike the stones from the path

"And make easier the way.

"The weavers of sweet sounds

"Whose billows sweep against eternity.

"The poets, singers of the soul ;

"We feed thee that future whence we hear dim songs ;

"That beauty which is deathless, beyond weighing.

"All the dreamers of the soul,

"Those who dream divinest dreams."


XIII. POET: Like the sea, or never-ceasing thunder, heard afar, I hear the roaring of monsters.

TRUTH: Cities. Vast, irresistible, wonderful, dreadful, beautiful,

hideous, devouring and giving birth ; Cradles of Life's perfection and its grave.

POET: Hives whose honey is bitter-sweet. Tall geni against the sky ; Waving banners of smoke and steam ; The Titan-wrought fret-work of spires, domes, minarets and cloud-touching roofs ;

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