Her Prince Of Pain

Her princes of pain in the midst of Her spirit, are as roaring, nocturnal creatures; Her judges of sadness are Her evening wolves; they leave nothing but sorrow till the morrow...

Her prophets of gloom are as deceitful lights to Her eyes, and treacherous fires...

Her priests of misery have profaned the sanctuary of Her joy and delightful awe, they have done violence to Her law of peace and quietude, forever-more...

Despair in the midst of Her is un-righteously sprinkled; He will not do without iniquity kindled...

Every morning doth bring its mourning to a new light, injustice faileth not as the eternal night...

But the unjust pangs knoweth no shame...

For a time, and times, and half a time, they maim, and maim, and maim...