INCLUSIVE EDITION, 1885-1918 589
By the heart-shaking jests of Decay where it lolled on the
wires To be blanched or gay-painted by fumes to be cindered by
fires
To be senselessly tossed and retossed in stale mutilation From crater to crater. For this we shall take expiation. But who shall return us our children ?
A SONG TO MITHRAS
(Hymn of the XXX Legion: circa 350 A. D.)
^ITHRAS, God of the Morning, our trumpets waken the Y1 Wall!
"Rome is above the Nations, but Thou art over all!" Now as the names are answered, and the guards are marched
away, Mithras, also a soldier, give us strength for the day!
Mithras, God of the Noontide, the heather swims in the heat. Our helmets scorch our foreheads, our sandals burn our feet. Now in the ungirt hour now ere we blink and drowse, Mithras, also a soldier, keep us true to our vows!
Mithras, God of the Sunset, low on the Western main Thou descending immortal, immortal to rise again! Now when the watch is ended, now when the wine is drawn, Mithras, also a soldier, keep us pure till the dawn!
Mithras, God of the Midnight, here where the great bull dies, Look on thy children in darkness. Oh take our sacrifice! Many roads thou hast fashioned all of them lead to the
Light,
Mithras, also a soldier, teach us to die aright!