and so we came at last to a waste valley hid in the desert's midst. And
herein, like fallen moons, I saw vast ribs that stood up white out of
the sand, higher than the hills of the desert. And here and there lay
the enormous shapes of skulls like the white marble domes of palaces
built for tyrannous kings a long while since by armies of driven
slaves. Also there lay in the desert other bones, the bones of vast
legs and arms, against which the desert, like a besieging sea, ever
advanced and already had half drowned. And as I gazed in wonder at
these colossal things the poet said to me:

"The gods are dead."

And I gazed long in silence, and I said:

"These fingers, that are now so dead and so very white and still, tore
once the flowers in gardens of my youth."

But my companion said to me:

"I have brought thee here to ask of thee thy forgiveness of the gods,
for I, being a poet, knew the gods, and would fain drive off the curses
that hover above Their bones and bring Them men's forgiveness as an
offering at the last, that the weeds and the ivy may cover Their bones
from the sun."

And I said:

"They made Remorse with his fur grey like a rainy evening in the
autumn, with many rending claws, and Pain with his hot hands and
lingering feet, and Fear like a rat with two cold teeth carved each out