If oft 'tis wont to be the blood of rank,
And royal blood sullied with sins. For he
Can even judge a king and sternly pass
Verdict upon him, and thereof is need
At sundry seasons.
By him is sentenced to the pillory.
From virtue, which has incense burnt before it,
The rose-hued mask he wrenches, and behold,
Abandoned strumpets, having each and all,
A death's head, and the breathing of them reeks
With stenches of the tomb. He punisheth
Evil which to a poisoned flower has bred
Thrivingly out of mortal breast. And that
He likewise punisheth, which guiltlessly
Is there entwined in the unshapen bud.
And from his judgment there is no appeal:
The sky, the sun, the stars and all the world, —
These are but the beholders of his judgments.
And God? If such there be, then e'en God's judgment
Can be pronounced but by the lips of him!
7. A. DÜRER PAINTING THE SAVIOUR'S
HEAD.
1526.
Thee do I seek for, O my tortured Lord,
Through the wide world, — I seek, but do not find;
Tiger-like, serpent-like is man, and aye,
One of the brood the devil pastureth,
