I therefore, I Will hear them.

I by death will scatter you; Yea, and by death will draw them to My breast, And gather them to peace.
"'But yet,' saith He, 'Repent, and turn you.

Wherefore will ye die ?' "Turn then, O turn, while yet the enemy Untamed of man fatefully moans afar; For if ye will not turn, the doom is near.
Then shall the crested wave make sport, and beat You mighty at your doors.

Will ye be wroth?
Will ye forbid it?
Monsters of the deep Shall suckle in your palaces their young, And swim atween your hangings, all of them Costly with broidered work, and rare with gold And white and scarlet (there did ye oppress,-- There did ye make you vile); but ye shall lie Meekly, and storm and wind shall rage above, And urge the weltering wave.
"'Yet,' saith thy God, 'Son,' ay, to each of you He saith, 'O son, Made in My image, beautiful and strong, Why wilt thou die?
Thy Father loves thee well.
Repent and turn thee from thine evil ways, O son! and no more dare the wrath of love.
Live for thy Father's sake that formed thee.
Why wilt thou die ?' Here will I make an end." Now ever on his dais the dragon lay, Feigning to sleep; and all the mighty ones Were wroth, and chided, some against the woe, And some at whom the sorcerer they had named,-- Some at their fellows, for the younger sort,-- As men the less acquaint with deeds of blood, And given to learning and the arts of peace (Their fathers having crushed rebellion out Before their time)--lent favorable ears.
They said, "A man, or false or fanatic, May claim good audience if he fill our ears With what is strange: and we would hear again." The Leader said, "An audience hath been given.
The man hath spoken, and his words are naught; A feeble threatener, with a foolish threat, And it is not our manner that we sit Beyond the noonday"; then they grandly rose, A stalwart crowd, and with their Leader moved To the tones of harping, and the beat of shawms, And the noise of pipes, away.

But some were left About the Master; and the feigning snake Couched on his dais.
Then one to Japhet said, One called "the Cedar-Tree," "Dost thou, too, think To reign upon our lands when we lie drowned ?" And Japhet said, "I think not, nor desire, Nor in my heart consent, but that ye swear Allegiance to the God, and live." He cried, To one surnamed "the Pine,"-- "Brother, behooves That deep we cut our names in yonder crag.
Else when this youth returns, his sons may ask Our names, and he may answer, 'Matters not, For my part I forget them.'" Japhet said, "They might do worse than that, they might deny That such as you have ever been." With that They answered, "No, thou dost not think it, no!" And Japhet, being chafed, replied in heat, "And wherefore?
if ye say of what is sworn, 'He will not do it,' shall it be more hard For future men, if any talk on it, To say, 'He did not do it' ?" They replied, With laughter, "Lo you! he is stout with us.
And yet he cowered before the poor old snake.
Sirrah, when you are saved, we pray you now To bear our might in mind,--do, sirrah, do; And likewise tell your sons, '"The Cedar Tree" Was a good giant, for he struck me not, Though he was young and full of sport, and though I taunted him.'" With that they also passed.
But there remained who with the shipwright spoke: "How wilt thou certify to us thy truth ?" And he related to them all his ways From the beginning: of the Voice that called; Moreover, how the ship of doom was built.
And one made answer, "Shall the mighty God Talk with a man of wooden beams and bars?
No, thou mad preacher, no.