And all the stars of hell are crying loud
At the bright insult of that sparking brand.
The demon-torn and devastated land
Smokes like a field of salt wild fire has plowed,
Athwart it towers Satan, thunder-browed,
Black at his side his Princely Evils stand.
After our fated triumph, some will drink,
Those who had girls will kiss the girls they had;
But I shall wander on the starry brink
And feel divine, and, beautifully sad,