Because our soul is chastened as with lashes,
Because Thine anger like a stormy deep
Goes over us, in sackcloth and in ashes
We sit alone and weep.
Nobody gave them heed; indeed each man was thinking how to speed
His interests, and if the prey would satisfy ambition or need.
To honest minds with zeal imbued the Pope's indulgence, their own merit
Bestowed some licence to be lewd, and take—their preachers said "inherit."
Even I who was in love with Christ, I with the conscience clean and cold
That hankered not for lands or gold, was wondering how to clinch my hold