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RIMMON
105
As we remember the sacrifice
Dead men an hundred laid—
Slain while they served His mysteries
And that He would not aid.
Not though we gashed ourselves and wept,
For the high-priest bade us wait;
Saying He went on a journey or slept,
Or was drunk or had taken a mate.
(Praise ye Rimmon, King of Kings,
Who ruleth Earth and Sky!
And again I bow as the censer swings
And the God Enthroned goes by.)
Ay, we remember His sacred ark
And the virtuous men that knelt
To the dark and the hush behind the dark
Wherein we dreamed He dwelt;
Until we entered to hale Him out,
And found no more than an old
Uncleanly image girded about
The loins with scarlet and gold.
