Poems By Arjava

A TABLELAND with painful moving shapes

Is cleft in two by this ravine which gapes,

Miasma'd with the leasing of its swamp,—

With crown and sword and phantom feudal pomp.

It is an unrcofed sewer, open grave,

And source of vile mythologies that rave

About the need for this dividing curse

And Social Duty to make badness worse.

But now the earth can bear the load no more ;

And stirs and groans in sleep from shore to shore.

When shall the Planetary Sleeper wake,

And shatter lies, and cry " For Beauty's sake "?