For lo! the nations, the imperial nations Of Europe, all imagine a vain thing, Sitting thus blindly in their generations, Serving an idol for their God and King. Blindly they rage together, worshipping Their lusts of cunning, and their lusts of gold; Trampling the hearts of all too weak to bring Alms to their Baal which is bought and sold. And lo! there is no refuge, none but Baal For man's best help, and the mute recreant earth Drinks in its children's blood, and hears their wail, And deals no vengeance on its last foul birth; And there is found no hand to ward or keep The weak from wrong, and Pity is asleep. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TIME, REAL AND IMAGINARY; AN ALLEGORY by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE ALONZO THE BRAVE AND THE FAIR IMOGINE by MATTHEW GREGORY LEWIS MELANCHOLY by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS TRACT by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS HASSAN'S MUSIC by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH MOVE UPWARD by ALEXANDER ANDERSON LINES TO BE SPOKEN BY THOMAS DENMAN.....WHEN FOUR YEARS OLD by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE WEDDING DAY; OR, THE BUCCANEER'S CURSE; A FAMILY LEGEND by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |