Les Mouches Fantastiques (amateur journal)/April 1918/To One

by Elsie Alice Gidlow

To One.

Why do you weep for the dead God,
Foolish, beautiful youth?
They killed him with their narrowness,
But they cannot kill your Truth.

What use to mourn and mourn for Him?
What use to weep and weep?
Sobbing will not waken Him,
Nor tears dissolve his sleep.

And all the warmth of your young limbs
Pressed close against His own
Will not lure life back to them
Now that it has flown.

The oldest gods must always die,
Reverent, weeping youth;
But though no single god be left
They cannot kill your truth.

Elsie A Gidlow.