But I must go smelling yew and sods,And I know there are gods behind the gods, Gods that are best unsung.
"And a man grows ugly for women, And a man grows dull with ale;Well if he find in his soul at last Fury that does not fail.
"The wrath of the gods behind the gods Who would rend all gods and men;Well if the old man's heart hath stillWheels sped of rage and roaring willLike cataracts to break down and kill, Well for the old man then —
"While there is one tall shrine to shake Or one live man to rend;For the wrath of the gods behind the gods Who are weary to make an end.
"There lives one moment for a man When the door at his shoulder shakes,When the taut rope parts under the pull,And the barest branch is beautiful One moment, while it breaks.
"So rides my soul upon the sea That drinks the howling ships;
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