Earth-brown armies, on the brown earth whither,
Ant-like swarming, rush ye in your wrath?
—We wrestle and we tug and we pull all together
To shift the giant Dead Thing that lies across the path.
Earth-brown armies, but should it roll and smother,
Log-like topple, and crush you in the clod?
—Earth would pour new armies, one behind another,
To shift the giant Dead Thing that blocks the way of God!
THE IMPERATIVE
Whether we lose the light