This deity, whose altars reek with blood,
Though millions bend the prostituted knee
Before the radiant shrine, though millions own
His power vindictive just, and call him Honour,
All cannot sanctify what public good
What nature’s moral dictates disavow,
And Heaven’s almighty mandate impious deems.
Samuel Hayes.
Honour—in blood congealed to take a life,
Which had been murder in the heat of strife!