The War-God

By George Sterling

Behold the pandar of Oblivion—
    This idiot monster, holding hate his law!
    It is for him that Life must stand hi awe,
For him that Art hath cringed and Science done
Whoredom among the tribes, refusing none.
    In his red day our scruples are as straw:
    The nations gather at his word, and draw
His chariot, refulgent as the sun.

The stars of many masterdoms have set,
    But that star sets not ever, and the light
        That fell on Troy is cast on Europe now;
And as of old the mothers' eyes are wet,
    And the brute god, girded with steej and night,
        Above Time's charnel scowls with armored brow.

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