Yea! God hath helped my strength too far,
By bandit-caverned wood and scar,
To give it pause now, or to bar
My all-avenging way!
This hope still gives my body strength—
To kiss thy mouth and eyes at length
Where all thy kin can see:
Then, 'mid thy towers of crime and gloom,
Sin-haunted as the Halls of Doom,
To strike thee dead in that wild room