The Reaping

Hush—What appeal
  From inexorable Fate?
The gods can feel
  Nor Love nor hate.
They strike blindly  for our evil and as blindly for our good—
Carring not if Honour follow on the sword blow or our blood.

What good to rave?
  They are stronger e'en than Jove—
If we can save
  Our store of Love,
From this world's wrack and chaos, ere we wander lone to Hell—
Bear the precious  burden with  us where  the weary  shadows dwell—
Life has not been wholly barren tho' for aye we say 'farewell'—