SUNDAY WORDS

19 Sep

Fiery the Angels rose, & as they rose deep thunder roll’d
Around their shores: indignant burning with the fires of Orc

BlakeAmerica

And Bostons Angel cried aloud as they flew thro’ the dark night.
He cried: Why trembles honesty and like a murderer,
Why seeks he refuge from the frowns of his immortal station!
Must the generous tremble & leave his joy, to the idle: to the pestilence!
That mock him? who commanded this? what God? what Angel!
To keep the gen’rous from experience till the ungenerous
Are unrestrain’d performers of the energies of nature;

Till pity is become a trade, and generosity a science, That men get rich by

And…

…………………..the sandy desart is giv’n to the strong

What God is he,
writes laws of peace,
& clothes him in a tempest

What pitying Angel lusts for tears,
and fans himself with sighs

What crawling villain
preaches abstinence
& wraps himself
In fat of lambs?

    NO MORE I FOLLOW. NO MORE OBEDIENCE PAY
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