A Curse For A Nation

I heard an angel speak last night,

And he said Write!

Write a Nations curse for me,

And send it over the Western Sea.

I faltered, taking up the word:

Not so, my lord!

If curses must be, choose another

To send thy curse against my brother.

For I am bound by gratitude,

By love and blood,

To brothers of mine across the sea,

Who stretch out kindly hands to me.

Therefore, the voice said, shalt thou write

My curse to-night.

From the summits of love a curse is driven,

As lightning is from the tops of heaven.

Not so, I answered. Evermore

My heart is sore

For my own lands sins: for little feet

Of children bleeding along the street:

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