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Home  »  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse  »  Calvin Dill Wilson

Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.

The Old Gods

Calvin Dill Wilson

THE OLD GODS never die,

They only watch and wait;

They wait for a thousand years

Beside the tall church gate.

Jove and Neptune and Mars,

Tyr and Odin and Thor,

These watch with the ageless stars,

They watch forevermore.

They call with the worn bronze trumpets,

They call and all men hear.

Their voice is deeper than church bells,

Deeper than chimes rung clear.

It charms like the seraphim’s,

And is older than all the hymns.

We hear the tramp of many feet

Upon the ancient pavements of the Gods.

We see the people hasten from the street,

Chanting their lauds.

Their fashion’s garments off they cast

And don the shag-skins of the past.

The Old Gods rule the seas,

And men are fed to the waves.

The Old Gods burn the cities;

They bind and ravish their slaves.

They ride on the storm and the lightning,

They revel in jungle and brake,

They inhabit the seats of the thunders

When the tempests in wrath awake.

A strange, strange smile

Is the Old Gods’, while

They hope for the Cross to fall

And they be lords of all.

Jove and Neptune and Mars,

Tyr and Odin and Thor,

These watch with the ageless stars,

They watch forevermore.

The Old Gods never die,

They only watch and wait,

They wait for a thousand years

Beside the tall church gate.