3O—-1
30-29
]OB.
30
I0
II
I2
16
18
20
2I
22
24
25
26
28
And I stood as commander of troops.
I encouraged them when they despaired S-
But they now are laughing at me
Who are lower in rank than myself,-
Whose fathers I would have disdained
To put with the dogs of my flocks !
What to me is the strength of their hands
Whose whole vigour has wasted away
Gaunt with hunger and famine, they gnawed,
And raged yesterday in the wastes!
And plucking up cress in the bush
And the roots of the bracken for food !
They were chased away out of our midst;
They roared after them as after thieves ;
They dwelt in the rents of ravines,
In holes in the dust, and in caves!
In the shelter of bushes they brayed,
And under the thorns they were wed!
Sons of tramps--yes, men with no name-
They were driven away from the land.
But I am become now their song,
And I am become their contempt!
They insult, and they wave me away,
And refrain not to spit in my face,
Since HE loosened my nerve and depressed,
In my presence they throw off the rein.
On the right a mob rise at my feet,
They point and heap insults on me.
They roughen my paths to annoy,
And do mischief that profits them not.
They come on, as though thro’ a breach,
With roaring they roll themselves up ;
Their terrors are turned upon me.
My nobility flies like the wind,
And my power has passed like a cloud.
My life now is poured out from me
And times of depression have seized;
My bones shoot within me at night,
And their gnawing will not let me rest;
My clothes must be stripped off by force,
I am galled by the band of my coat.
I am flung out, as tho' I were dirt,
And become like to ashes and dust !
I shout, but they answer me not.
I stand up. But they look not on me!
How fiercely upon me you turn
To desolate by your strong hand I
You lift me to ride on the wind
And melt me away in a mist!
For I know you will bring me to death,
To the home fixed for all who may live!
Yet He lays not llis hand on my wreck
Though I should be glad of my end!
I wept in their time of distress,
And troubled my mind for the poor.
Yet when I hoped good, evil came ;
When hoping for light, came the gloom l
My bowels boil up and rest not;
l’m confronted by days of distress!
I am blackened, but not by the heat;
I rise in the public and roar;
I am come to be brother to snakes.
846
