curses

Dripping down so quietly on it. A tune

Is beating out of the curses and screams,

And the cracking all through the painted seams.

They mean to spoil our sleep, and do, but all their gains

Are curses for their pains!'

Now who but knows

As but a mote within Thine eye,

Vain sneers and curses from our throats

Rise to the vault of Thy fair sky:

He runs and stumbles to reach the road.

He yells and curses and tears his hair.

He staggers and falls and rises and runs.

A torturing silence of wan dismay --

Shrieks and curses of mad souls dying --

Then down they sank to slumber and sway

And there is hell's eternal under-song

Of curses and the cries of men gone mad.

And your purple shows your path!

But the child's sob in the silence curses deeper

Than the strong man in his wrath."

Smarting and sweating ’neath the sultry day,

With muttering curses stung, he mauls the heaps away.