I stood before a leg in the museum, A marble leg, a mutilated leg, Supported by a rod of polished bronze. This leg of some hermaphroditic god Was carved in Greece, when ancient Greece was young. In deepest reverence I stood and gazed Upon this relic of an absent god. And as I stood I wondered if perchance Idolatry is not this very act, That thus enshrines an ancient piece of stone, Whilst living sculptors are compelled to waste In fruitless idleness that precious power Which carves the Victories of Samothrace. Idolators, ye worship graven stones But are indifferent to the gods that carve them. |