The wretch detested must she trust,
The servant master own:
Confide to godless cause so just,
And for God’s blessing moan.
XIX
Austerely she her heart kept down,
Her woman’s tongue was mute
When voice of People, voice of Crown,
In cannon held dispute.
XX
The Crown on seas of blood, like swine,
Swam forefoot at the throat:
It drank of its dear veins for wine,
Enough if it might float!
XXI
It sank with piteous yelp, resurged
Electrical with fear.
O had she on old Kraken urged
Her word of mercy clear!
XXII
O had they with Count Louis been
Accordant in his plea!
Cursed are the women vowed to screen
A heart that all can see!