In the silence of the night-time
Startled, we can hear a murmur
As of someone tapping, tapping,
Tapping at the breasts of idols
With an auscultating hammer,
Sounding all their hollow vitals
As they helplessly endeavour
To evade with vain pretences
Or atone:
Yes, we hear the distant thunder
Of an earthquake that convulses;
Poor old Mother Earth is shaken,
Sorely tried and whirled asunder,
Shaken by a fierce invader;
Where grim and slow you creep below,
Digging, digging, digging deep,
Troglodyte, untiring miner
All alone!
As you climb upon the mountains,
Glaciers, icy precipices,
Toward the lonely lightning-blasted
Peak that towers above in silence,
Plunging into deep crevasses
Where the frozen water falls:
Monotone:
And at last we wake from nightmare —
Wake, to find ourselves denuded
Naked, lonesome,‘ mid our fellows
Lacking father, wife, or mother,
Lacking neighbour, child or brother:
All disown.
Still our eyes are fixed steadfastly
Where you soar above the heavens,
Spurning with your mighty pinions
Countless deities and angels,
Shattering our fondest visions
With your own:
Ever on your knees you creep,
Where the way is wild and steep.
Digging, digging, digging deep,
Whilst the priests and idols weep.