large/10730/children_of_the_night_1604_librivox_64kb_mp3/childrenofthenight_49_robinson_64kb_26
large/10730/children_of_the_night_1604_librivox_64kb_mp3/childrenofthenight_49_robinson_64kb
English
10730
You think me, I know, in this maundering way designing To lighten the load of my guilt and cast it Half on the shoulders of God. YOU THINK ME I KNOW IN THIS MAUNDERING WAY DESIGNING TO LIGHTEN THE LOAD OF MY GUILT AND CAST IT HALF ON THE SHOULDERS OF GOD
s out forever; the beacon Of sin is the light that leads us downward -- Down to the fiery end. The road runs Right through hell; and the souls that follow The cursed ways where its windings lead them Suffer enough, I say, to merit All grace that a God can give. -- The fashion Of our belief is to lift all beings Born for a life that knows no struggle In sin's tight snares to eternal glory -- All apart from the branded millions Who carry through life their faces graven With sure brute scars that tell the story Of their foul, fated passions. Science Has yet no salve to smooth or soften The cradle-scars of a tyrant's visage; No drug to purge from the vital essence Of souls the sleeping venom. Virtue May flower in hell, when its roots are twisted And wound with the roots of vice; but the stronger Never is known till there comes that battle With sin to prove the victor. Perilous Things are these demons we call our passions: Slaves are we of their roving fancies, Fools of their devilish glee.  OF HATE THE GLORY OF GOOD GOES OUT FOR EVER THE BEACON OF SIN IS THE LIGHT THAT LEADS US DOWNWARD DOWN TO THE FIERY END THE ROAD RUNS RIGHT THROUGH HELL AND THE SOULS THAT FOLLOW THE CURSED WAYS WHERE ITS WINDINGS LEAD THEM SUFFER ENOUGH I SAY TO MERIT ALL GRACE THAT A GOD CAN GIVE THE FASHION OF OUR BELIEF IS TO LIFT ALL BEINGS BORN FOR A LIFE THAT KNOWS NO STRUGGLE AND SINS TIGHT SNARES TO ETERNAL GLORY ALL APART FROM THE BRANDON MILLIONS WHO CARRY THROUGH LIFE THEIR FACES GRAVEN WITH SURE BRUTE SCARS THAT TELL THE STORY OF THEIR FOUL FADED PASSIONS SCIENCE HAS YET NO SOVE TO SMOOTH OR SOFTEN THE CRADLE SCARS OF A TYRANT'S VISAGE NO DRUG TO PURGE FROM THE VITAL ESSENCE OF SOULS THE SLEEPING VENOM VIRTUE MAY FLOWER IN HELL WHEN ITS ROOTS ARE TWISTED AND WOUND WITH THE ROOTS OF VICE BUT THE STRONGER NEVER IS KNOWN TO THE COMES THAT BATTLE WITH SIN TO PROVES A VICTOR PERILOUS THINGS ARE THESE DEMONS WE CALL OUR PASSIONS SLAVES ARE WE OF THEIR ROVING FANCIES FOOLS OF THEIR DEVILISH GLEE
large/10730/children_of_the_night_1604_librivox_64kb_mp3/childrenofthenight_49_robinson_64kb
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