The giants, they who walked the earth of old
Are come again to scourge this feeble race;
And weapons long forgot in pride they hold,
To dash to earth your idols in disgrace;
Their armor proof shall be 'gainst sword or spear,
Your strength now lifts to smite a feebler foe;
Your cries for help their ears can never hear,
Nor wounded can their eyes your sufferings know;
Arise! gird on the might that now you waste
On harlots, and in feasting night and day;
Their coming-on shall be with eagles' haste,
As from the heights they dart upon their prey;
That all-unknowing pass their eyries by,
With idle pace and earthward turning eye.