“Sovereign Ruler, Lord of all! Can it be that Thou disdainest Only man? ’Gainst him, poor thrall, Wanton Fortune plays her vainest. Guilt’s deserved punishment Falleth on the innocent; High uplifted, the profanest On the just their malice vent.

“Virtue cowers in dark retreats, Crime’s foul stain the righteous beareth, Perjury and false deceits Hurt not him the wrong who dareth; But whene’er the wicked trust In ill strength to work their lust, Kings, whom nations’ awe declareth Mighty, grovel in the dust.