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THE VIGILANTES |
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are the whirlwinds that winnow the
Vest — |
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We scatter the wicked like straw!
We are the Nemeses, never at rest — We are Justice, and Right, and the Law! Moon on the snow and a blood-chilling blast,
Sharp-throbbing hoofs like the heart-beat of fear, A halt, a swift parley, a pause — then at last A stiff, swinging figure cut darkly and sheer Against the blue steel of the sky; ghastly white Every on-looking face. Men, our duty was clear; Yet ah I what a soul to send forth to the night! Ours is a service brute-hateful and grim;
Little we love the wild task that we seek; Are they dainty to deal with — the fear-rigid limb, The curse and the struggle, the blasphemous shriek? Nay, but men must endure while their bodies have breath;
God made us strong to avenge Him the weak — To dispense his sure wages of sin — which is death. We stand for our duty: while wrong works its will,
Our search shall be stern and our course shall be wide; 150 |
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