Now look to it,--'Twere vain Albeit this deluge He would send indeed, That we expect the harvest; He would yet Be the Master-reaper; for I heard it said, Them that be young and know Him not, and them That are bound and may not build, yea, more, their wives, Whom, suffering not to hear the doom, they keep Joyous behind the curtains, every one With maidens nourished in the house, and babes And children at her knees,--( then what remain!) He claimeth and will gather for His own.
Now, therefore, it were good by guile to work, Princes, and suffer not the doom to fall.
There is no evil like to love.

I heard Him whisper it.

Have I put on this flesh To ruin his two children beautiful, And shall my deed confound me in the end, Through awful imitation?
Love of God, I cry against thee; thou art worst of all.".