The Mermen
by Hart Crane
Buddhas and engines serve us undersea;
Though why they bide here, only hell that's sacked
Of every blight and ingenuity—
Can solve.
The Cross alone has flown the wave.
But since the Cross sank, much that's warped and cracked
Has followed in its name, has heaped its grave.
Oh—
Gallows and guillotines to hail the sun
And smoking wracks for penance when day's done!
No—
Leave us, you idols of Futurity—alone,
Here where we finger moidores of spent grace
And ponder the bright stains that starred this Throne
—This Cross, agleam still with a human Face!