AT THE GRAND CAÑON

Thou settest splendors in my sight, O Lord!

It seems as tho' a deep-hued sunset falls

Forever on these Cyclopean walls--

These battlements where Titan hosts have warred,

And hewn the world with devastating sword,

And shook with trumpets the eternal halls

Where seraphim lay hid by bloody palls

And only Hell and Silence were adored.

Lo! the abyss wherein great Satan's wings

Might gender tempests, and his dragons' breath

Fume up in pestilence. Beneath the sun

Or starry outposts on terrestrial things,

Is no such testimony unto Death

Nor altars builded to Oblivion.

_George Sterling_

Poetry: A Magazine of Verse, Volume 01 October-March, 1912-13 · 第 54 / 157 题