The Winged Beetle

v DEDICATION Out of the East, out of the East Didst thou flame forth, O Son of Man, The chainless champion of the Beast ! A warrior comet, thy plumes fan The shuddering air’s black wildernesses To fiends’ insatiate caresses. Thou camest crowned and helmed and armed, Sworded, a mighty man of war : Swayed all the stars, aghast, alarmed As at the Thunderbolt of Thor ! The very aethyr rocked and shook At thine indomitable look ! [Here must we utterly restrict Our theological remarks. One whom not Heaven could contradict Says : Now, Sir, if you please, no larks ! Hence for third stanza (with a curse) I write instead this sorry verse.]