Poem by Madison Julius Cawein

Pagan

    The gods, who could loose and bind
        In the long ago,
    The gods, who were stern and kind
        To men below,
    Where shall we seek and find,
        Or, finding, know?

    Where Greece, with king on king,
        Dreamed in her halls;
    Where Rome kneeled worshiping,
        The owl now calls,
    And whispering ivies cling
        To mouldering walls.

    They have served, and have passed away
        From the earth and sky,
    And their Creed is a record gray,
        Where the passer-by
    Reads, "Live and be glad to-day,
        For to-morrow ye die."

    And shall it be so, indeed,
        When we are no more,
    That nations to be shall read, -
        As we have before, -
    In the dust of a Christian Creed,
        But pagan lore?

1. The Iron Cross
2. In the Mountains
3. The Battle
4. Night and Rain
5. Above the Vales

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