Far better we should cross His lightning’s path,
Than be according to our idols heard,
And God should take us at our vain word.
Keble.
Before the idol-monster was the blood
Of man poured out by man. No mother there
Blessed the fair skies which smiled upon her babe,
But hastened rather, with unnatural hand,
To crush the unfolding life, and turn aside
The dark inheritance of woe and pain,