CONTRA CONJUGIUM T. B. B. 
37 
Play on its brink !  What soul can tell 
But I, your God, may be as air, 
A children’s snare ? 
 
“ But I am here, I will not heed, 
I will not give more signs ;  But I 
Will come with heavy hand and deed 
And give men knowledge ere they die 
How their priests lie. 
 
“ A gospel marred, a bastard creed, 
A dogma out of hell ye teach ! 
False shepherds, ye shall learn your meed ; 
Not as waves breaking on the beach 
My wrath shall reach ! 
 
“ I forget not—heed not my cry, 
Play out the farce, wed fast the twain !— 
Red judgment and black death draw nigh, 
Your blasphemies shall all be vain, 
And your souls slain. 
 
“ Vipers !  on him my mercy falls 
Perchance, at last, in heaven ;  but ye