Where have you gone,   O, old Gods of Earth   what far, planet-paven ways doth you walk?      Upon the marginless sky,   where once your chariots rolled   now a cruel and ravenous tyrant enthrones      Shall you come to us   in star-emblazoned dreams   mounted on silver-haired unicorns?      Shall you appear again   proud gods of old   in the blaze of sidereal multitude?      O, blinded fools of Jahve   behold the creation of your lord!   Earth is now but a rigid semblance   of a long-dead, once wondrous world,   a ruined pantheon of beauty,   a vast sepulchre of gloom   O, blinded fools of Jahve   behold the creation of your lord!      The Huntress rides no more ,   the Elder gods left this hoary planet   And remains not faith enough to bring them back-   Pan to his wood, Artemis to her moon