To speak of wrong, or plead the cause of truth 

 Before the unjust. 

 Can ye not understand 

 God in his wisdom hath afflicted me? 

 Ilis hand hath reft away my crown and stripp'd 

 Me of my glory. Kindred blood vouchsafes 

 No aid or solace in my deep distress. 

 Estrang'd and far away, like statues cold 

 Brethren and kinsfolk stand. Familiar friends 

 Frown on me as a stranger. They who dwell 

 In my own house and eat my bread, despise me. 

 I call'd my own tried servant, but he gave 

 No answer or regard. My maidens train'd 

 For household service, to perform my will 

 Count me an alien;—even with my wife 

 My voice hath lost its power. Young children rise 

 And push away my feet and mock my words. 

 Yea, the best loved, most garner'd in my heart 

 Do turn against me as a thing abhorr'd. 

 Have pity, pity on me, oh my friends! 

 Prev. P 43/285 next