Three years thy house hath been the hostelry
Of dissolute and shameless men, the lords
And princes of the isles and western shores;
Who woo thy wife, and feasting in thy halls
Make waste of all thy substance day and night.
As men besiege a city, and their host
Encamp about and let none out nor in,
Waiting the day when hunger and sore need,
Sharper than iron and cruder than fire,
Shall bow the starvèd necks beneath the yoke: