Page:Songs before sunrise (IA beforesunrisongs00swinrich).pdf/274

 So spake she, drunken with dreams, Mad; but again in her ears A voice as of storm-swelled streams Spake; "No brave shame then redeems Thy lusts of sloth and thy fears?

"Thy poor lie slain of thine hands, Their starved limbs rot in thy sight; As a shadow the ghost of thee stands Among men living and lands, And stirs not leftward or right.

"Freeman he is not, but slave, Who stands not out on my side; His own hand hollows his grave, Nor strength is in me to save Where strength is none to abide.

"Time shall tread on his name That was written for honour of old, Who hath taken in change for fame Dust, and silver, and shame, Ashes, and iron, and gold."