Stable. Felt a power. Yet all so quiet—
Not even the black beetles crept away.
Queer, if it was a god—their only god,
And none of the fools knew.”
“It was your own
Mind’s darkness,” Ares muttered; and Hephaestus
Laughed—at Aphrodite he could laugh,
Now that his limbs were free.
“Was there a song?
Even a musty music? Where a god is,