Dirge of the Four Cities
Filed by Aine MacDermot
FINIAS
In the torch-lit city of Finias that flames on
the brow of the South
The Spear that divideth the heart is held in
a brazen mouth—
Arias the flame-white keeps it, he whose
laughter is heard
Where never a man has wandered, where
never a god has stirred.
High kings have sought it, great queens have
sought it, poets have dreamed–
And ever louder and louder the flame-white
laughter of Arias streamed.
For kingdoms shaken and queens forsaken and
high hopes starved in their drouth,
These are the torches ablaze on the walls of
Finias that lightens the South.
Forbear, O Arias, forbear, forbear—lift not
the dreadful Spear—
I had but dreamed of thee, Finias, Finias . . .
now I am stricken . . . now I am here!
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