 | Women must weep |  |
BEFORE THE FLOOD.
They
were buying and selling, they ate and drank,
And the years went gaily on;
While the sunlight rose, and the sunlight sank,
As it did in the seasons gone.
They married and gave in marriage still,
As the morning follow'd night;
There was place for the toiling men of skill,
And power for men of might.
They were weeping, just as they ever wept,
And the cruel hands shed blood,
And they laugh'd in spite of the hearts bereft—
Before the Flood.
And the years went gaily on;
While the sunlight rose, and the sunlight sank,
As it did in the seasons gone.
They married and gave in marriage still,
As the morning follow'd night;
There was place for the toiling men of skill,
And power for men of might.
They were weeping, just as they ever wept,
And the cruel hands shed blood,
And they laugh'd in spite of the hearts bereft—
Before the Flood.
187
They are buying and selling, they eat and drink,
And the world looks youthful yet;
While the moonbeams play on the earthquake's brink,
And the roses with thorns are set.
They marry and give in marriage,
And they crowd the funeral way;
And the lovers make their plighted vow,
That is broken before the day.
And the State is girdled with walls of fire,
And the Church baptised in blood,
And the gold is gather'd from pits of mire—
Before the Flood.
And the world looks youthful yet;
While the moonbeams play on the earthquake's brink,
And the roses with thorns are set.
They marry and give in marriage,
And they crowd the funeral way;
And the lovers make their plighted vow,
That is broken before the day.
And the State is girdled with walls of fire,
And the Church baptised in blood,
And the gold is gather'd from pits of mire—
Before the Flood.
There are wars and rumours of war on land,
There are signs in the stars and moon;
And the waves beat over the crumbling strand,
And the sun is dark at noon;
For distress, of the coming evils born,
On the troubled nations lies;
And a light, that was never the light of morn,
Hangs red in the angry skies.
There are famines and pestilence and woes,
And brother takes brother's blood,
And the earth is shaken with travail-throes—
Before the Flood.
There are signs in the stars and moon;
And the waves beat over the crumbling strand,
And the sun is dark at noon;
For distress, of the coming evils born,
On the troubled nations lies;
And a light, that was never the light of morn,
Hangs red in the angry skies.
There are famines and pestilence and woes,
And brother takes brother's blood,
And the earth is shaken with travail-throes—
Before the Flood.
The seducer yet does the Devil's will,
And the dirty work he loves,
Fall the lustful hands that more than kill
On the plumage of our doves;
For the wings are broken that would soar,
Aloft to the seat of Grace,
And the golden head with grief is hoar,
And it hath no resting-place;
Yea, the heart is wrung with a shameful wrong,
And the bosom stain'd with blood,
And our doves have lost their heavenly song—
Before the Flood.
And the dirty work he loves,
Fall the lustful hands that more than kill
On the plumage of our doves;
For the wings are broken that would soar,
Aloft to the seat of Grace,
And the golden head with grief is hoar,
And it hath no resting-place;
Yea, the heart is wrung with a shameful wrong,
And the bosom stain'd with blood,
And our doves have lost their heavenly song—
Before the Flood.
188
The shadow, that bodes the awful night,
On divided kingdoms falls;
And it lowers between the stateman's sight,
And our tottering iron walls.
The prophets prophesy falsehoods sweet,
And the friends their friends betray;
And we hear the tramp of the bearers' feet
That will carry the corpse away.
There is pleasure that stands in God's high throne,
There are sorrows written in blood,
The foundations rock from their heart of stone—
Before the Flood.
On divided kingdoms falls;
And it lowers between the stateman's sight,
And our tottering iron walls.
The prophets prophesy falsehoods sweet,
And the friends their friends betray;
And we hear the tramp of the bearers' feet
That will carry the corpse away.
There is pleasure that stands in God's high throne,
There are sorrows written in blood,
The foundations rock from their heart of stone—
Before the Flood.
| Women must weep | |