Page:Anthology of Modern Slavonic Literature in Prose and Verse by Paul Selver.djvu/326

 

Requital which is his due for monstrous transgressions against thee.
A pirate he cruised through thy waters, the banner of the cross
Was his ensign, enlightenment the feigned beacon he steered for;
But his sails were swollen with the foul breath of greed,
His hull guided by the hand of one rapaciously exulting in plunder,
A sword was his oar, a spear his plummet for thy depths,
And behind his vessel ever floated in blood a cluster of corpses—
Thy slain. Heaven itself would have wept
To behold the fruit of its gentle labours on the field of mankind,
Happiest race of them all, when a black curse
Mowed it down, and to behold the outcome of its tending,
Greatest in number of dwellers, when virulent savagery
Harried it to the bane of ages; in fine, to behold
An image most like unto itself upon earth, when in God's name
Godlessness evilly vexed it, and for the sake of the cross
Nailed, as it were to the cross, the gentlest of tribes.
The devoutest on earth,