No longer will I upbraid,
But go my way in silence!
From shame, I am afraid
And brought to my soul's continence!

I saw a man bowed 'neath a Dream,
Go painful, to ransom a city —
'Tis such alone will redeem,
And yet I withheld from him pity.

But as a mocker I spoke,
" Good Ox, graze here, by the road,
'Tis an ignominious yoke
When dust is the load! "

And I saw in a ransomer's eyes
Ire, for God's purpose defamed.
God give me the gag of the wise —