His accursèd land Howl in our halls and sit upon our throne? Go hide your face from this day, And await the day when His head shall fall down, But not upon your platter.”
These things my mother said. But my heart would not keep her words. I loved Him in secret, And my sleep was girdled with flames.
He is gone now. And something that was in me is gone also. Perhaps it was my youth That would not tarry here, Since the God of youth was slain.