This page has been validated.
Save with his own white beauty. These are they
That were your father’s gods in the old days.
That were your father’s gods in the old days.
Calum. The gods are fallen. On the misty crags
They walk and sorrow for the olden times.
And on the surf-beat rocks the whole night through
Lior is moaning for his vanished loves,
For we have girdled all the seas with flame,
And our new night is gentle as the day.
And the apostles’ swords have pierced the rain
That armoured Balor, and the angels’ hands
Have rent the fiery lightnings from his grasp,
And war is dying, dying in our hearts.
And the white feet of Angus walk the hill,
But with him go no beautiful young men,
And the young maidens bide within the house.
And you may be, that walk the city ways,
Dream that the gods are mighty yet. But we
In Western Morven, by the winter fires,
Hear all night long above the talk of men
Our broken masters wailing on the hills.
They walk and sorrow for the olden times.
And on the surf-beat rocks the whole night through
Lior is moaning for his vanished loves,
For we have girdled all the seas with flame,
And our new night is gentle as the day.
And the apostles’ swords have pierced the rain
That armoured Balor, and the angels’ hands
Have rent the fiery lightnings from his grasp,
And war is dying, dying in our hearts.
And the white feet of Angus walk the hill,
But with him go no beautiful young men,
And the young maidens bide within the house.
And you may be, that walk the city ways,
Dream that the gods are mighty yet. But we
In Western Morven, by the winter fires,
Hear all night long above the talk of men
Our broken masters wailing on the hills.
Alastair. The gods are living yet, and have their thrones
In the invisible desires of men.
Below the quiet current of our lives
In the invisible desires of men.
Below the quiet current of our lives
58
