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1876–1944

THOTH

Helen Hay Whitney

Hewn from basalt, black as sin, Blind eyes staring, hands on knees,— This is Thoth, who shall survive All your fair divinities.

Mars and Venus, piping Pan, White Diana, Cupid sweet,— All their beauty, all their pride, Lie like ashes round his feet.

Vast and calm and ultimate Ere this orb dissolves in space Life's last glimpse to man shall be Thoth, with his impassive face.

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THOTH · Helen Hay Whitney · Poetry Cove