He brought his arméd men,
And where had shone the clustering grapes
There stretched a waste again.
Homeless, the children wandered
Thro’ the fields their father won:
No more shall they feel his clasp and kiss—
Aye, never beneath the sun.
Vex, vex not the Empire Builder,
Nor babble of Mercy’s shield;
Hath he not his vaster issue—