Go, Thou coward servant of a tyrant King, Go down the desert of the bones, and ask, 'My King, what bones are these?
Methuselah, The white old man that sitteth on the ground, Sendeth a message, "Bid them that they live, And let my lizards run up every path They wont to take when out of silver pipes, The pipes that Tubal wrought into my roof, I blew a sweeter cry than song-bird's throat Hath ever formed; and while they laid their heads Submiss upon my threshold, poured away Music that welled by heartsful out, and made The throats of men that heard to swell, their breasts To heave with the joy of grief; yea, caused the lips To laugh of men asleep.
Return to me The great wise lizards; ay, and them that flew My pursuivants before me.

Let me yoke Again that multitude; and here I swear That they shall draw my car and me thereon Straight to the ship of doom.

So men shall know My loyalty, that I submit, and Thou Shalt yet have honor.

O mine Enemy, By me.

The speech of old Methuselah."'" Then Noah made answer, "By the living God, That is no enemy to men, great sire, I will not take thy message; hear thou Him.
'Behold (He saith that suffereth thee), behold, The earth that I made green cries out to Me, Red with the costly blood of beauteous man.
I am robbed, I am robbed (He saith); they sacrifice To evil demons of My blameless flocks, That I did fashion with My hand.