Gargoyles

The ringing cries of the victors peal In, in at the captured gate ! Then o’er the field the maniac passed And closed the dead men’s eyes. ‘‘ They are sleeping close with death at last !” The wanton warrior cries. But he who saw the dead man’s jaw Grind at the last was aware That the harlot’s kiss was Paradise That the soldier tasted there. And beyond the magnificent joy of death Shears through the sky, as a flame Ripping the air, the lightning breath Of the nation’s resonant fame. Hail! to the Hachiman deed well done! To the virile strength of a man! To the stainless blaze of the Rising Sun, The glory of Japan! 85