<html xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><body><h1 align="center" class="head">The Mossgrown Porches</h1><div class="stanza"><p class="line">WHEN, as of old in Rome's imperial world,</p><p class="line">Fair, conquered gods are from their temples</p><p class="line">hurled,</p><p class="line">And some rude, vehement Peter puts to flight</p><p class="line">Some serene Phœbus, lord of lore and light,</p><p class="line">In wastes and wilds, by fount and caverned hill,</p><p class="line">Secretly, furtively, are worshipped still.</p><p class="line">With the sad zeal of vainly pious knees,</p><p class="line">The ancient, the deposed divinities,</p><p class="line">Heaven's outcasts, the great exiles of the sky.</p><p class="line">Once mighty to do all things, save to die.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">So, though in kingdoms of the Lyre to-day</p><p class="line">I see the new faiths push the old away—</p><p class="line">See the hot hierophants of each strange shrine</p><p class="line">Offer oblation to all gods but mine,</p><p class="line">And proudliest build their sanctuary and home</p><p class="line">Where broods, on England's Tiber, England's</p><p class="line">Rome;</p><p class="line">Yet, mid a revel of change, unchanged I turn</p><p class="line">To the lorn haunts where older altars burn,—</p><p class="line">There seek, companioned by the lessening few</p><p class="line">Whose faith is as mine own, the gods I knew;</p><p class="line">Seek in deep clefts, and hushed in forests find,</p><p class="line">The far-withdrawn Olympians of the mind,</p><p class="line">Nor ever doubt, that among wondering men</p><p class="line">These deathless will in triumph come again,</p><p class="line">As sure as the droop'd year's remounting curve,</p><p class="line">And reign anew, when I no more shall serve.</p></div></body></html> · Great War