the weeping prophet.
193
Therefore I sit a mourner, and mine eyes
Pour day and night their heavy sorrows down.
My people pass me by, for they despise
His goodness, and with scoffs His warnings drown.
While o'er my head, in cloudy columns low,
The birds of prey that scent their ruin go.
Pour day and night their heavy sorrows down.
My people pass me by, for they despise
His goodness, and with scoffs His warnings drown.
While o'er my head, in cloudy columns low,
The birds of prey that scent their ruin go.
Was ever any sorrow like to mine?
It is no selfish trouble that I weep,
O daughter of my people, but I keep
Vigil for thee, beneath the wrath divine,
The love that reddens into justice, when
God's perfect law is made the mock of men.
It is no selfish trouble that I weep,
O daughter of my people, but I keep
Vigil for thee, beneath the wrath divine,
The love that reddens into justice, when
God's perfect law is made the mock of men.
For, evermore, the tables of that law,
Broken by man, are back upon him hurled.
O virgin daughter, thee defiled I saw,
Wandering from Him, an outcast in the world,
Filthy without, and vile and crushed within;
A by-word through the ages for thy sin.
Broken by man, are back upon him hurled.
O virgin daughter, thee defiled I saw,
Wandering from Him, an outcast in the world,
Filthy without, and vile and crushed within;
A by-word through the ages for thy sin.
Alike in visions of the day and night,
A spectral presence, not to be shut out,
A bleeding shadow, chased by shame and doubt,
Hither and thither past me takes its flight
A spectral presence, not to be shut out,
A bleeding shadow, chased by shame and doubt,
Hither and thither past me takes its flight
