Poems by Themis

O Dire Magician

O dire Magician, how long will you keep

This spirit pegged in rough-hewn stone or tree,

Witch-wisdoms jeering at its agony

And uncouth passions stalking it in sleep?

— Are you then deaf? Do you not hear it weep

Within dark rocks, and struggling to be free?

The wood imps titter and tease in mockery...

Release it, Lord, unweave the midnight deep.

Or is this then your vaunted magic show,

Or is some sacred Mystery being played?

— 'The isle is full of voices', in the air

Whispers of an unearthly beauty flow,

And hidden meanings sweet and secrets rare

Await the passing of the masquerade.

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