False Gods
From gods of other men, fastidious heart,
You thank your stars good sense has set you free.
Ay. But the dread slow piercing of death's dart?
Its, " Why, my God, have I forsaken thee ."
You thank your stars good sense has set you free.
Ay. But the dread slow piercing of death's dart?
Its, " Why, my God, have I forsaken thee ."
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