Hide from their robberies, for forth they go 

 Into the wilderness, their prey to hunt 

 Like ravening beasts. 

 There are, who watch to slay, 

 Rising before the dawn, or wrapp'd in night 

 Roaming with stealthy footstep, as a thief, 

 To smite their victims, while the wounded groan 

 Struck by their fatal shaft. 

 There are, who do 

 Such deeds of utter darkness as detest 

 The gaze of day. Muffling their face, they dig 

 Their way to habitations where they leave 

 Shame and dishonor. 

 Though He seem to sleep, 

 God's eye is on their ways. A little while 

 They wrap themselves in secret infamy, 

 Or proudly flourish,—but as the tall tree 

 Yields in a moment to the wrecking blast, 

 As 'neath the sickle falls the crisping corn, 

 Shall they be swept away, and leave no trace." 

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