Flies who by jet can

Travel thusly,

Anachronisms that

Our kind must be,

Bringing such

Technology to bear

On the lightness of

The summer air,

Too seigneurial

To hide

Our mastery of the time

And tide:

Save us, shade us

From the sky

Through which our ancient

Horrors fly,

Send us back to where

We lie in night,

Before we dare the sun

And die from sight.