Page:Poems Henderson.djvu/32

And she, the mother, tossing high in arms,
A babe.
Thereat, the adulteress spake;
"I bow men's hearts unto my will.
Invade the homes of peace, and sow
The seeds of wantonness."

I saw a maiden in a field,
Where gleamed the autumn sheaves;
The quail piped its shrill note,
Among the grainless stubble.
And on a bough, the whistling black-bird sung.
As if to rival her whose voice
Like sweetest lute was strung.
The flush of beauty on her brow,
The light of heaven in her eye.

I heard a voice, and lo!
One stood who drew
With hurrying feet, the multitude.
For words of fire and eloquence came forth,
From lips that owned no tyrant's sway.
And farther on, a wood I viewed,
And there an altar.
From which rose the smoke of sacrifice,
And she, the great mother of harlots spake;
"These are my sacrifices.
Babes slaughtered before their birth,
For where I rule, there lust and woe,
Cumber all earth.