Never can true reconcilement grow where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep.
Back to thy punishment, False fugitive, and to thy speed add wings.
For neither man nor angel can discern hypocrisy, the only evil that walks invisible, except to God alone.
The oracles are dumb, No voice or hideous hum Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. Apollo from his shrine Can no more divine, With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving. No nightly trance or breathed spell Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.
The nodding horror of whose shady brows Threats the forlorn and wandering passenger.
When complaints are freely heard, deeply considered and speedily reformed, then is the utmost bound of civil liberty attained that wise men look for.