Gargoyles

Let there be scenes of blood and pain, Some Slav beneath the Cossack knout, Some mother ripped, some baby slain, Let lust move silently about :— Soft laughter hid in all, song whispering out! Then let these things of form decay, Some subtler dream dissolve their form, As I have seen a cloudlet lay Its forehead on the sea, and pray Some idle prayer to sunset, or the storm ! Yea! as a cloud in worship-trance Swoons in invisible delight, Let slave and king, let death and dance Shake off their forms, and clothe their light In shrouds of sepulchre, the starless night ! Let song and cry leave tune and tone, Perish uncried and die unsung! Nature, the monotonic moan Roared by the river, thunder alone:— The Hoang-Ho, its note, the monstrous Kung! 64