Page:Songs, Legends, and Ballads.djvu/138

126 O, blind and cruel! She fills her cup
 * With conquest and pride, till its red wine splashes:

But shrieks at the draught as she drinks it up—
 * Her wine has been turned to blood and ashes.

We know her—our Sister! Come on the storm!
 * God send it soon and sudden upon her:

The race she has shattered and sought to deform
 * Shall laugh as she drinks the black dishonor.