| William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. (1878–1962). Anthology of Magazine Verse for 1920. 1920. |
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| Full-Circle |
| | | Maxwell Anderson (1888–1959) |
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| NOW that the gods are gone, | |
| And the kings, the gods’ shadows, are gone, | |
| Man is alone on the earth, | |
| Thrust out with the suns, alone. | |
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| Silent he walks among | 5 |
| The unanswering stars of his night, | |
| Knowing his hands are weak, that his eyes | |
| Deceive in the light. | |
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| Knowing there is no guerdon to win | |
| But the dark and his measure of mould, | 10 |
| Foreseeing the end of dream, foreseeing | |
| Youth grow old. | |
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| Yet, knowing despair he is free, | |
| Free of bonds, of faith, of pain. | |
| What should frighten him now | 15 |
| Who has nothing to gain, | |
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| When he takes the place of the gods, | |
| And chaos is his and the years, | |
| And the thunderous histories of worlds | |
| Throb loud for his ears? | 20 |
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| Now that the gods are gone | |
| The skies are dust in his hands; | |
| Through his fingers they slip like dust | |
| Blown across waste lands; | |
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| And his glance takes in beauty and grief | 25 |
| And the centuries coming or flown: | |
| He is god of all ways and things— | |
And a fool—and alone.
The New Republic | |
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