The writings of Robert C. Sands in prose and verse with a memoir of the author |
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![]() | The writings of Robert C. Sands | ![]() |
XXIV.
“By all the hopes that we forswear;By the potent rite we here prepare;
By every shriek whose echo falls
Around the Spirits' golden walls;
By our eternal league made good;
By all our wrongs and all our blood;
By the red battle-axe uptorn;
By the deep vengeance we have sworn;
By the uprooted trunk of peace,
And by the wrath that shall not cease,
Where'er ye be, above, below,
Spirits OF ILL! we call ye now!
![]() | The writings of Robert C. Sands | ![]() |