Brethren, bony Gabriel and lank Raphael.
From nearer Asia, lonely a long while,
They had come flying, sick of the desert silence,
Sick of the centuries through which no lord,
No king of the host, had blessed them with command.
As orphaned eagles, missing their ancient’s cry,
They had come hither, hopeful of these seven,
Hopeful of noble company, of new act.
Now on the prow they gathered, and no sailor
Saw them; but Apollo did, and Artemis—