Explore "The Festival of the Aisne" by Madison Cawein on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
/ Imperial Madness, will of hand, / Builds vast an altar here, and rears / Before the world, on godly land, / A Moloch form of blood and tears.
/ And far as eye can see, behold, / Priests plunge into its brazen arms / Men, that its iron maw of mold / Mangles, returning horrible forms.
/ Its Priests are armies, moving slow, / And crowned like kings, in human-guise: / And theirs it is to make it flow -- / The crimson stream of sacrifice.