Forsake the shrine, they deem divine,
I would not stoop my soul to thee!
The lips, that breathe the burning vow,
By falsehood base unstained must be;
The heart, to which mine own shall bow,
Must worship Honor more than me!
The monarch of a world wert thou,
And I a slave on bended knee,
Though tyrant chains my form might bow,
My soul should never stoop to thee!