The Reaping



Hush—What appeal
From inexorable Fate?
The gods can feel
Nor Love nor hate.
They strike blindly for our evil and as blindly for our good—
Carring not if Honour follow on the sword blow or our blood.

What good to rave?
They are stronger e'en than Jove—
If we can save
Our store of Love,
From this world's wrack and chaos, ere we wander lone to Hell—
Bear the precious burden with us where the weary shadows dwell—
Life has not been wholly barren tho' for aye we say 'farewell'—