The swineherds on Hill Gadara Stood blinking in the sun Thinking of nothing -- as swineherds may -- As other men have done, Warders of nations. Their herds were scattered on the Hill, Some rooting with ringless snout For artichokes, some feeding still, Some sleeping round about Like men in nations. One Boar, bedeviled, raised his head And shook his tusks and squealed. The rest looked up and where he led Trooped as to battlefield. Bedeviled nations. The swineherds on Hill Gadara Rushed to the wild melee, Held out their staves to bar the way Shouting: The sea! The sea! Warners of nations. The herds, stampeding blind with greed, Rushed past them down the Hill Grunting and squealing: Pay no heed To the fools! It's swill! It's swill! Death lure of nations. |