Duly with knees that feign to quake—
Bent head and shaded brow,—
Yet one more time, for my father's sake,
In Rimmon's House I bow.
The curtains part, the trumpet blares,
The eunuchs howl aloud;
And the great, gilt, swag-bellied idol glares
Insolent over the crowd.
"This is Rimmon, Lord of the Earth—
"Fear Him and bow the knee"
And I watch my comrades hide their mirth
Who rode to the wars with me.
For we remember the sun and the sand
And the rocks whereon we trod,
'Til we came to a scorched and a scornful land
That did not know our God;
And we remember the sacrifice
Dead men by hundreds laid—
Slain while they served His mysteries,
And still He would not aid.
( 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 who 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
Unclean image girded about
The with cloth of silver and gold.
Him we overturned with the bu*ts of our spears—
Him and his vast designs—
To be the scorn of our muleteers
And the jest of our halted lines.
The priests hushed the matter before it was known,
And returned to our fathers afar,
And hastily set Him again on His throne
Because He had won us the war.
Therefore with knees that feign to quake—
Bent head and shaded brow—
To this dead dog, for my father's sake,
In Rimmon's House I bow!