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...UNCLE JIM'S BAPTIST REVIVAL HYMN by SIDNEY LANIER THE GARDEN BY MOONLIGHT by AMY LOWELL LINCOLN TRIUMPHANT by EDWIN MARKHAM CITIES OF THE PLAIN by EDGAR LEE MASTERS DOMEDAY BOOK: MIRIAM FAY'S LETTER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS LINES ON LEAVING THE BEDFORD STR. SCHOOL HOUSE by GEORGE SANTAYANA |