THE LAND OF FAL

If all must suffer equally, and pay

In equal share for that sin wrought by Eve,

O Thou, if Thou wilt deign to answer, say:

Why are the poor tormented? why made grieve

The innocent? why are the free enslaved?

Why have the wicked peace tho’ void of ruth?

Why are there none to pity, when, dismayed,

And sick with fear, the lamb bleats to the tooth

That tears him down? why is the cry unheard

Of lonely anguish? why, when the land of Fal

Had loved Thee long and well, was she not spared

The ruin that hath stamped her under all

That mourn and die?