Of some lost race that died in human pain,
Looking towards heaven, yet seeing no more than they.
A DREAM OF THE PREHISTORIC
NAKED and shaggy, they herded at eve by the sound of the seas,
When the sky and the ocean were red as with blood from the battles of God,
And the wind like a monster sped forth with its feet on the rocks and the trees,
And the sands of the desert blew over the wastes of the drought-smitten sod.
Here, mad with the torments of hunger, despairing they sank to their rest,
Some crouching alone in their anguish, some gathered in groups on the beach;