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!