O SON of man, by lying tongues adored, By slaughterous hands of slaves with feet red-shod In carnage deep as ever Christian trod Profaned with prayer and sacrifice abhorred And incense from the trembling tyrant's horde, Brute worshippers or wielders of the rod, Most murderous even of all that call thee God, Most treacherous even that ever called thee Lord; Face loved of little children long ago, Head hated of the priests and rulers then, If thou see this, or hear these hounds of thine Run ravening as the Gadarean swine, Say, was not this thy Passion, to foreknow In death's worst hour the works of Christian men? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FOREST MAID by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT WIDOW MALONE by CHARLES JAMES LEVER AFTER DEATH by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI STELLA AND FLAVIA by MARY BARBER THE LOST GODS ABIDING by WILLIAM ROSE BENET EARLY VENEZIAN DETAIL by GORDON BOTTOMLEY TO EMILY DICKINSON by MARY BOWEN BRAINERD |