xl.
Rais’d at Mexitlis’ shrine—this is most foul,
Most rank, most blasphemous idolatry!
And better were it for these wretched men
With infant victims to have fed the fire
Of Moloch, in that hour when they shall call
Upon the hills and rocks to cover them,
For the judgment day is come.
Most rank, most blasphemous idolatry!
And better were it for these wretched men
With infant victims to have fed the fire
Of Moloch, in that hour when they shall call
Upon the hills and rocks to cover them,
For the judgment day is come.
Now mark the spot where A few grey stones
Now mark the spot where Odin’s temple stood,
And there the traveller seeks with busy eye
His altar green with moss. The Northern chiefs
Cast not their captive in the dungeon now
To the viper brood, nor to the eagle’s shape
Carve out his mangled form. Yet let not Earth,
Yet let not Heaven forget the prison house
Of Olmutz! what tho’ to his Conqueror’s sword
Crouching, the Oppressor lets his victim see
Once more the light of day, let Earth and Heaven
Remember to his Conqueror’s sword he yields
What at his feet a woman begg’d in vain,
Now mark the spot where Odin’s temple stood,
And there the traveller seeks with busy eye
His altar green with moss. The Northern chiefs
Cast not their captive in the dungeon now
To the viper brood, nor to the eagle’s shape
Carve out his mangled form. Yet let not Earth,
Yet let not Heaven forget the prison house
Of Olmutz! what tho’ to his Conqueror’s sword
Crouching, the Oppressor lets his victim see
Once more the light of day, let Earth and Heaven
Remember to his Conqueror’s sword he yields
What at his feet a woman begg’d in vain,
