64492: Outlaws

<p dir="ltr"> Owls---they whinny down the night;<br> Bats go zigzag by.<br> Ambushed in shadow beyond sight<br> The outlaws lie.<br> Old gods, tamed to silence, there<br> In the wet woods they lurk,<br> Greedy of human stuff to snare<br> In nets of murk.<br> Look up, else your eye will drown<br> In a moving sea of black;<br> Between the tree-tops, upside down,<br> Goes the sky-track.<br> Look up, else your feet will stray<br> Into that ambuscade<br> Where spider-like they trap their prey<br> With webs of shade.<br> For though creeds whirl away in dust,<br> Faith dies and men forget,<br> These agd gods of power and lust<br> Cling to life yet---<br> Old gods almost dead, malign,<br> Starving for unpaid dues:<br> Incense and fire, salt, blood and wine<br> And a drumming muse,<br> Banished to woods and a sickly moon,<br> Shrunk to mere bogey things,<br> Who spoke with thunder once at noon<br> To prostrate kings:<br> With thunder from an open sky<br> To warrior, virgin, priest,<br> Bowing in fear with a dazzled eye<br> Toward the dread East---<br> Proud gods, humbled, sunk so low,<br> Living with ghosts and ghouls,<br> And ghosts of ghosts and last year's snow<br> And dead toadstools.</p>