First they sailed from our precious shore, with hope and prayers for the tedious war, till at first light with our prayers besought and injured power, better omens bought. And now our navy plows the water main, yet, soon expect it on our shores again, with those not pleased, as history did ordain.But first, to reconcile the blue eyed maid, for this iron statue, and towers betrayed, warned by the world, to her offended name we raised, and delicate this wondrous frame, so lofty, lest through forbidden gates history shall pass to intercept our fates. For, once admitted there, our hope is not lost: and of this new world order a Palladium boast. For so religion and our God did ordain, that if we HIM, violate with words profane HIS gift, our world in flames shall burn, with an omen, the good books pages turn! But if we climb, with HIS assisting hands, the iron maiden, and in the city stands, when hate and intolerance in all shall burn, and reverse the fate of God, who does return. With vanished deceits HE will gain in our hearts, too prone and credit earth with Heavens arts, what God, and a gift of an earthly born son, a thousand ships, nor all wars have done. Washed our tears and hate - HIS city won. A greater prayer, and better world portent, did our unwary minds with fear torment, concurring to produce the dire event. Yet, made with zeal, and blinded by state we haul along those to reckon with our fate, then place love again skyward with a tower, cried again, and cursed the unhappy hour; Foretold our fate; but, by our God's decree, all heard, and none believed, the prophecy. With branches we the fanes adorn, and waste in wars end ordained to be the last we'll taste while heaven rolled down on the last night and Gods word was proclaimed again in light. Our men secure, nor guards nor sentries held but easy sleep our weary limbs compelled. Those few who remained awoke to raise the gate, while in Heaven or Hell others awoke to meet fate, and 10,000 with the ghost in Satan's sight appears but they were covered with a shroud in tears. Such was the end, when hate and fear was slain, and the wind howled across the barren plain. |