SEVENTH ANTIPHONE

By Algernon Charles Swinburne

Wilt thou bring fine gold for a payment

For sins on this wise?

For the glittering of raiment

And the shining of eyes,

For the painting of faces

And the sundering of trust,

For the sins of thine high places

And delight of thy lust?

For your high things ye shall have lowly,

Lamentation for song;

For, behold, I God am holy,

I the Lord am strong;

Ye shall seek me and shall not reach me

Till the wine-press be trod;

In that hour ye shall turn and beseech me,

Saith the Lord God.