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