And call ye this to utter what is just You that of justice hold the sovereign throne? And ye this, to yield, O sons of dust, To wronged brethren every man his own? O no! It is your long malicious will Now to the world to make by practice known With whose oppression you the balance fill: Just to yourselves, indifferent else to none. But what could they, who even in birth declined From truth and right to lies and injuries? To show the venom of their cankered mind The adder's image scarcely can suffice; Nay, scarce the aspic nay with them contend, On whom the charmer all in vain applies His skilfull's spells, aye missing of his end, While she, self-deaf and unaffected, lies. Lord, crack their teeth! Lord, crush these lions' jaws! So let them sink as water in the sand. When deadly bow their aiming fury draws, Shiver the shaft ere past the shooter's hand. So make them melt as the dishoused snail, Or as the embryo whose vital band Breaks ere it holds, and formless eyes do fail To see the sun, though brought to lightful land. O let their brood, a brood of springing thorns, Be by untimely rooting overthrown; Ere bushes waxed, they pricking horns, As fruits yet green are oft by tempest blown. The good with gladness this revenge shall see And bathe his feet in blood of wicked one While all shall say, "The just rewarded be; There is a God that carves to each his own." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BROODING GRIEF by DAVID HERBERT LAWRENCE THE CONFIDENT SCIENTIST by ALEXIS LEMNISCUS AD COLUMNAM S. SIMEONIS STYLITAE APPENSUS by JOSEPH BEAUMONT THE DREAMER by HUGH FRANCIS BLUNT GHOSTS OF THE PAST by SARAH RUTH COLEMAN |