I saw a city filled with lust and shame, <br /> Where men, like wolves, slunk through the grim half-light; <br />And sudden, in the midst of it, there came <br /> One who spoke boldly for the cause of Right. <br /> <br />And speaking, fell before that brutish race <br /> Like some poor wren that shrieking eagles tear, <br />While brute Dishonour, with her bloodless face <br /> Stood by and smote his lips that moved in prayer. <br /> <br />"Speak not of God! In centuries that word <br /> Hath not been uttered! Our own king are we." <br />And God stretched forth his finger as He heard <br /> And o'er it cast a thousand leagues of sea.<br /><br />John McCrae<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/anarchy/
