Her law brings bondage: where her feet find room
Her hand holds sway: she tears, that it may bleed,
The heart which follows her, and every need
Of man’s frail flesh she takes and turns to scorn!
Who worships her, by him is sackcloth worn;
And on his head she sets no crown of joy,
But ashes only—symbol to be borne,
If you betray her, how she will—destroy!
Olang.
Tiki, you know that I have always been—