100 
VICTORY 
 
While men are living, fair and free— 
Ah me, since justice must endure 
And draw her sword at last, and be 
The eternal conqueror of Thee. 
 
And I, shall my support be sure 
In that great day of righteous war ? 
Is my soul free ?  Is my heart pure ? 
Shall life diseased in death find cure ? 
 
Or shall the shameless barren whore 
That rules my ways be found my guide, 
Wed in bad bands so foul and sore 
That Liberty shall be not more 
 
Within my heart or at my side ? 
O Pleasure, whom I made my god, 
And based my forehead for thy pride 
And took thy bastard for my bride, 
 
Subdued my shoulders to thy rod, 
Casting before thy feet the things, 
The virtues that thou didst hate ;  I trod 
A bloody winepress, and went shod