the days of the Titans of Wrong
Are past, for the Truth is a torch, and the
voice of the peoples is strong.
Even PENTAOUR, the poet of Might, spake in
pity that rings down the years
Of the life of "the peasant that tills" of his
terrible toil and his tears;
Of the rats and the locusts that ravaged, and,
worse, the tax-gathering horde
Who tithed all his pitiful tilth with the aid