and in each man’s ear
        A cry as of perishing lands,
    A moan as of people in prison,
      A tumult of infinite griefs;
          And thunder of storm on the sands,
        And wailing of wives on the shore;
    And under thee newly arisen
      Loud shoals and shipwrecking reefs,
          Fierce air and violent light,
        Sail rent and sundering oar,
          Darkness; and noises of night;
    Clashing of streams in the sea,
      Wave against wave as a sword,
        Clamour of currents, and foam,
          Rains making ruin on earth,
        Winds that wax ravenous and roam
      As wolves in a wolfish horde;
    Fruits growing faint in the tree,
          And blind things dead in their birth
        Famine, and blighting of corn,
        When thy time was come to be born.

    All these we know of; but thee
      Who shall discern or declare? 
    In the uttermost ends of the sea
        The light of thine eyelids and hair. 
          The light of thy bosom as fire
          Between the wheel of the sun
      And the flying flames of the air? 
        Wilt thou turn thee not yet nor have pity,
    But abide with despair and desire
      And the crying of armies undone,
          Lamentation of one with another
        And breaking of city by city;
      The dividing of friend against friend,
          The severing of brother and brother;
      Wilt thou utterly bring to an end? 
          Have mercy, mother!

    For against all men from of old
      Thou hast set thine hand as a curse,
        And cast out gods from their places. 
          These things are spoken of thee. 
    Strong kings and goodly with gold
      Thou hast found out arrows to pierce,
        And made their kingdoms and races
          As dust and surf of the sea. 
    All these, overburdened with woes
      And with length of their days waxen weak,
        Thou slewest; and sentest moreover
          Upon Tyro an evil thing,
    Rent hair and a fetter and blows
      Making bloody the flower of the cheek,
        Though she lay by a god as a lover,
          Though fair, and the seed of a king. 
    For of old, being full of thy fire,
      She endured not longer to wear
        On her bosom a saffron vest,
          On her shoulder an ashwood quiver;
    Being mixed and made one through desire
      With Enipeus, and all her hair
        Made moist with his mouth, and her breast
          Filled full of the foam of the river.

  Atalanta

  Sun, and clear light among green hills,