Page:Poems Sackville.djvu/101

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.

The Helots

Eternally dwell?
If the kernel is crushed and made shapeless shall any take heed for the shell?

Of dust the gods made us
And mocked us with life;
In flesh they arrayed us,
And filled us with strife:
For a guerdon they gave us the fetter—for pleasure the lash and the knife,

For freedom we pine not,
We claim no release;
But we pray that the fine knot
That binds us may crease
Each sinew, each nerve of our masters with pain that can fail not nor cease.

89