58 THE FATAL FORCE
Against all men, dominions, shapes, and powers,
Seen and unseen, to justice and to truth,
Sought out by desolate ways of hateful deeds,
And so set free myself from my own fate,
Whom I will smite to end the coil of things
Here, to begin—what life? For Life I know
Stands like a living sentinel behind
The rugged barrier of death, the gates
Where the rude valley narrows, and man hears
The steep and terrible cataract of time
Break, and lose shape and substance in the
foam ,
And spray of an eternity of air!
My death, and not my life, may crown me king!
So let me not be buried in that state
Due to the hateful rank that I abjure
By this proud act, but let my monument
Say to succeeding peoples and dim tribes
Unthought of: “This was born a living man
Bound, and he cut the chain of circumstance,
And spat on Fate.” And all the priests shall say
And all the people: “ Verily and Amen.”
[Stabs himself.
CHORUS.
Spirit of the Gods! White noon
Of tremendous flashing fire,
Spirit of the moon!
Trembling essence of desire
Triple-tongued, thy flame is kindled