Their children's children's doom already brought
Forth from the abyss of Time which is to be,
The chaos of events where lie half-wrought
Shapes that must undergo mortality:
What the great seers of Israel wore within,
That Spirit was on them and is on me:
And if, Cassandra-like, amidst the din
Of conflicts, none will hear, or hearing heed
This voice from out the wilderness, the sin
Be theirs, and my own feelings be my meed,