Poems
But a god of dull madness,
A god of the dead,
Who never from sadness
Of Hades was led
By Zeus, but treads where mere shadows have trod and for ever shall tread.
A god of the dead,
Who never from sadness
Of Hades was led
By Zeus, but treads where mere shadows have trod and for ever shall tread.
All Pallas could tell us
We scorn in our hearts,
But strong to impel us
With clamorous darts
Of hatred arises a goddess who numbers each tear as it starts.
We scorn in our hearts,
But strong to impel us
With clamorous darts
Of hatred arises a goddess who numbers each tear as it starts.
Not Artemis claims us—
No servants of Pan
Are we, but one names us
No servants of Pan
Are we, but one names us
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