If I was born about centuries ago,
With vulgar voice and full puissance,
Of beastial gallantry that laughs at woe,
As who strangles dragons by their tongues,
and throttled aleviathan with his manes,
Fought hades and executed its banes,
I shall lift my head yonder sky,
Curse God and die!
I know he shall summon me of this sin,
Stay and give ears to his alibis,
To be sure whoso that lose or win,
Inquires him of what your demise is!
He prove to me why spares the worse,
And good men taken away by force,
The just punished, it maybe trity-sacredness
Those lacking scruples, for their stupidness
I shall ask of nights full of loathing-evils,
And sweet spring-buds falling,
By windstorms and unfed weevils,
Withering away at first-blooming,
But if you die, withno his wit, O brother!
And my judgment discarded, unanswered
I shall plead my rebellion and repent,
Then let men prepare for unbeknown-death;
Young and old, Short and tall,
Poor and rich, Great and small