Yet thrice art stricken. First, war harried thee;
Then the dread circling tempest drove its plow
Right through thy palaces; and now, O now!
A sound of terror, and thy children flee
Into the night and death. O Deity!
Thou God of war and whirlwind, whose dark brow,
Frowning, makes tremble sea and solid land!
These are Thy creatures who to heaven cry
While hell roars 'neath them, and its portals ope;
To Thee they call,—O Thou who bidst them die,
Who hast forgotten to withhold Thy hand,—
For thou, Destroyer, art man's only Hope!
PART V
HIDE NOT THY HEART
I
This is my creed,
This be my deed:
"Hide not thy heart!"
Soon we depart;
Mortals are all;
A breath, then the pall;
A flash on the dark—
All's done—stiff and stark.
No time for a lie;
The truth, and then die.
Hide not thy heart!
II
Forth with thy thought!
Soon 't will be naught,
And thou in thy tomb.
