If he seeks Power, Power is enthroned 'Mid ancient rights and wrongs, to feed Which hungry wolves with praise and spoil, Those who would sit near Power must toil; And such, there sitting, all may see. _665 What seeks he? All that others seek He casts away, like a vile weed Which the sea casts unreturningly. That poor and hungry men should break The laws which wreak them toil and scorn, _670 We understand; but Lionel We know, is rich and nobly born. So wondered they: yet all men loved Young Lionel, though few approved; All but the priests, whose hatred fell _675 Like the unseen blight of a smiling day, The withering honey dew, which clings Under the bright green buds of May, Whilst they unfold their emerald wings: For he made verses wild and queer _680 On the strange creeds priests hold so dear, Because they bring them land and gold. Of devils and saints and all such gear, He made tales which whoso heard or read Would laugh till he were almost dead. _685 So this grew a proverb: 'Don't get old Till Lionel's "Banquet in Hell" you hear, And then you will laugh yourself young again.' So the priests hated him, and he Repaid their hate with cheerful glee. _690 Ah, smiles and joyance quickly died, For public hope grew pale and dim In an altered time and tide, And in its wasting withered him, As a summer flower that blows too soon _695 Droops in the smile of the waning moon, When it scatters through an April night The frozen dews of wrinkling blight. None now hoped more. Gray Power was seated Safely on her ancestral throne; _700 And Faith, the Python, undefeated, Even to its blood-stained steps dragged on Her foul and wounded train, and men Were trampled and deceived again, And words and shows again could bind _705 The wailing tribes of human kind In scorn and famine. Fire and blood Raged round the raging multitude, To fields remote by tyrants sent To be the scorned instrument _710 With which they drag from mines of gore The chains their slaves yet ever wore: And in the streets men met each other, And by old altars and in halls, And smiled again at festivals. _715 But each man found in his heart's brother Cold cheer; for all, though half deceived, The outworn creeds again believed, And the same round anew began, Which the weary world yet ever ran. _720