Not Understood and Other Poems/The Vilest Fiend of All
THE VILEST FIEND OF ALL.
“Oh, thou invisible spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be known by, let us call thee devil.”—Othello.
FALSE spirit! take thy fiendish shape, Thy name is demon, and not wine;Durst thou cling to the purple grape, Durst thou seek shelter ’neath the vine?Nay, cling unto thy patron, Death, And hide thee ’neath his blackest pall:Throughout Creation’s length and breadth, Thou art the vilest fiend of all.
What are thy crimes? Go, ask the grave, That, yawning, waits its lifeless clodThy murdered serf, thy poisoned slave, A type, once, of the living God;The shrieks within the maniac’s cell, The chain clinks ’yond the prison’s wall,The wails and groans of millions, tell Thou art the vilest fiend of all.
What are thy crimes? Yon soulless thing Was once God’s image pure and fair;Yea, fiend, as witnesses I’ll bring, Lust, hatred, murder, and despair,To prove thy guilt! The fiercest flame That burns below when sinners fall,Is fed by thee, remorse and shameProclaim thee, vilest fiend of all.
What are thy crimes! Thy counsel’s plea Is this: Thou’rt good, and we should prizeHeaven’s gifts; but I do view in thee A cruel devil in disguise;Before thee, peace and comfort fly, Replaced by senseless feud and brawl;Near thee, truth, love and honour die— Thou art the vilest fiend of all.
Oh, God of justice! God of right! Why is the world so full of woe,Why are souls withered by this blight? Is this the working of thy foe—The rebel sire of sin and crime, Who makes thy likeness, man, his thrall?Oh, Father! shield our new-born clime From this the vilest fiend of all.