Classic Poem

They fell with wrath vertiginous and awful
Upon the puny jasper of Vul's temple,
Striking to nothingness the giant columns.
Blow upon blow, so swift that they were painless.
Scythed the deep, serried ranks of priests attending,
And lingered in a moving mass horrific
Upon the domes, ere rising to the heavens
Again to fall, leading death's cortege with them.
Hope there was none, and there was nowhere shelter.
Severe, implacable, a flood of brimstone
And searching fire from the wild heaven descended,
While the earth trembled in stupendous travail,
And upon hosts of blanchened victims opened.
Loud o'er the hell of flame arose in anguish
The dolorous shrieks of nations pale and hideous,
Begging their gods in agony to spare them,
While o'er the imploring palms and wrinkled foreheads
The haughty palaces and great domes tottered,
And unto dust the granite bastions crumbled!
Fire, fire, eternal fire their homes assaulted,
And there was madness, but no sweet salvation!

Pale and dismayed, the king, the mighty Bera,
Fled from his throne in silence and in terror,
Fled to the streets where everywhere around him
Lay his crushed hosts of people and supporters,
While o'er the fire a mighty invocation
Rose from the priests, his sanctity surrounding:
" Oh, lofty Vul! from thy marble beauty gaze upon us;
Spare in thy wrath thine adorers, who are stricken by the
Fire that hath dared on thy temple's glory insolently
Now to fall fast, all thy holy secrets desecrating!
Turn in thy rage on the god afflicting outrage on thee;
Crush with thy glance all his hidden, haughty emissaries;
Spread in the soul of the cruel slayer, mercilessly,
Fear of thy hand that alone can banish torment from us!
Strike, awful Vul! and hurl back to heaven wonderfully
All the fierce flame that is desolating thy eternal
Shrine, and we all will with sacrifices glorify thee,
Ay, as our god, and will worship thee perpetually! "

And as they cried, the heavens were rent again,
And swifter, fiercer, fell the blighting rain!