INCLUSIVE EDITION, 1885-1918 661
Low among the alders lie their derelict foundations,
The beams wherein they trusted and the plinths whereon they
built
My rulers and their treasure and their unborn populations, Dead, destroyed, aborted, and defiled with mud and silt!
The Daughters of the Palace whom they cherished in my
Cities,
My silver-tongued Princesses, and the promise of their May Their bridegrooms of the June-tide all have perished in my
Cities, With the harsh envenomed virgins that can neither love nor
play.
I was Lord of Cities I will build anew my Cities, Seven, set on rocks, above the wrath of any flood. Nor will I rest from search till I have filled anew my Cities With peoples undefeated of the dark, enduring blood.
To the sound of trumpets shall their seed restore my Cities Wealthy and well-weaponed, that once more may I behold All the world go softly when it walks before my Cities, And the horses and the chariots fleeing from them as of old !
THE RETURN OF THE CHILDREN
the harps nor the crowns amused, nor the
cherubs' dove-winged races Holding hands forlornly the Children wandered beneath the
Dome, Plucking the splendid robes of the passers by, and with pitiful
faces Begging what Princes and Powers refused: "Ah, please
will you let us go home?"