Page:A New Zealand verse (1906).pdf/287

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A Temple Service.
251
Then were we aliens in our streets
  And father’s fields.
Dogs to be glad of morsel meats
  A master yields.

priests.

Their captains chose them slaves at will
      To toil and till,
And princes for their serving-men,
      By five and ten.

And spoused maidens for their bed,
      Cast out unwed
To be the sport of lewd women,
      And mock of men.

people.

And so the time went heavily
  For years eighteen.
And God’s face, which we sought to see,
  It was not seen.

The seasons moved from frost to flower,
  From flower to fruit,
But all the echoes of their power
  Were lost and mute.

priests.

But He who sits above the years
      He told our tears;
He who before did count our crime
      In His good time,