From birth to serve her will, her yoke to bear.
LXXIII
So Man, held hand and foot, a slave behold
Between the soldier-king and priest of old;
By force and fraud bound fast as by two chains—
How long, O Man, how long shall they thee hold?
LXXIV
“How long?” again I cried,—but Silence kept
Her finger on the lips of Hope: still slept,