Poems of Philip Henry Savage / Philip Henry Savage [electronic text]

III

"MERCY! Justice! Ah, no! Heaven's gate! Heaven's gate!" Panic above the crash of trampling horse And rush of wings upright against the course, A cry of gods confounded under fate! In tumult deep and inarticulate The angelic press burst outward, of the Source Of bulk Omnipotence compelled by force — Save Lucifer, omnipotent in hate. Bright as the dying day, with one black cloud Up-marshalled from the south and crossing o'er The glory and blotting out the evening star, So for a space he stood; then silent bowed, And from the battlements outspringing far Deep into darkness all his anguish bore.