Where have you gone,

O, old Gods of Earth

what far, planet-paven ways doth you walk?



Upon the marginless sky,

where once your chariots rolled

now a cruel and ravenous tyrant enthrones



Shall you come to us

in star-emblazoned dreams

mounted on silver-haired unicorns?



Shall you appear again

proud gods of old

in the blaze of sidereal multitude?



O, blinded fools of Jahve

behold the creation of your lord!

Earth is now but a rigid semblance

of a long-dead, once wondrous world,

a ruined pantheon of beauty,

a vast sepulchre of gloom

O, blinded fools of Jahve

behold the creation of your lord!



The Huntress rides no more ,

the Elder gods left this hoary planet

And remains not faith enough to bring them back-

Pan to his wood, Artemis to her moon