Poetry Archives

     (The Priests within the Temple)
She was wrinkled and huge and hideous?  She was our Mother.
She was lustful and lewd?—but a God; we had none other.
In the day She was hidden and dumb, but at nightfall moaned in the shade;
We shuddered and gave Her Her will in the darkness; we were afraid.

     (The People without)
     She sent us pain,
       And we bowed before Her;
      She smiled again
       And bade us adore Her.
      She solaced our woe
       And soothed our sighing;
      And what shall we do
     Now God is dying?

     (The Priests within)
She was hungry and ate our children;—how should we stay Her?
She took our young men and our maidens;—ours to obey Her.
We were loathed and mocked and reviled of all nations; that was our pride.
She fed us, protected us, loved us, and killed us; now She has died.

     (The People without)
     She was so strong;
       But death is stronger.
      She ruled us long;
       But Time is longer.
      She solaced our woe
       And soothed our sighing;
      And what shall we do
       Now God is dying?