large/10730/children_of_the_night_1604_librivox_64kb_mp3/childrenofthenight_49_robinson_64kb_64
large/10730/children_of_the_night_1604_librivox_64kb_mp3/childrenofthenight_49_robinson_64kb
English
10730
But hear me! I'm partly a man,    for all my weakness,    If weakness it were to stand and murder Before men's eyes the man who had murdered Me, and driven my burning forehead With horns for the world to laugh at. Trust me! BUT HEAR ME I AM PARTLY A MAN FOR ALL MY WEAKNESSES AND IF WEAKNESS IT WERE TO STAND AND MURDER BEFORE MEN'S EYES THE MAN WHO MURDERED ME AND DRIVEN MY BURNING FOREHEAD WITH HORNS FOR THE WORLD TO LAUGH AT TRUST ME
 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. -- 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. OAD 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 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
large/10730/children_of_the_night_1604_librivox_64kb_mp3/childrenofthenight_49_robinson_64kb
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