Broken and shattered Lie on the stones The golden censers That once scattered Perfume and prayer; And unbeholden, Save of us only, The high gods lonely Mount their sad thrones. And I too, beneath my breath, Blaspheme and profane the place With mutterings lewd of death -- But your illumined face, Strained by the weeping of sacrifice, And lit by the candles of paradise, Gleams like a silver cup To those sad ones offered up; And as long you yield them that visible cry The dying gods cannot wholly die. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...JAWEH AND ALLAH BATTLE by ALLEN GINSBERG DESIRE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON REVIEW by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DOWN BY THE CARIB SEA: 6. SUNSET IN THE TROPICS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON TO TWO UNKNOWN LADIES by AMY LOWELL DOMESDAY BOOK: THE CONVENT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS DOMESDAY BOOK: THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |