And can he thus survive?
Since he, miscalled the Morning Star,
Nor man nor fiend hath fall’n so far.
Ill-minded man! why scourge thy kind 10
Who bowed so low the knee?
By gazing on thyself grown blind,
Thou taught’st the rest to see.
With might unquestioned,—power to save,—
Thine only gift hath been the grave, 15
To those that worshipped thee;