They k**ed a Child to please the gods
In Earth's young penitence,
And I have bled in that Babe's stead
Because of innocence.
I bear the sins of sinful men
That have no sin of my own,
They drive me forth to Heaven's wrath
Unpastured and alone.
I am the meat of sacrifice,
The ransom of man's guilt,
They give my life to the altar-knife
Wherever a shrine is built.
Dark children of the mere and marsh,
Wallow and waste and lea,
Outcaste we wait at the village gate
With folk of low degree.
Our pasture is in no man's land,
Our food the cattle's scorn;
Our rest is mire and our desire
The thicket and the thorn.
But woe to those that break our sleep,
And woe to those who dare
To rouse the buffalo from his keep,
Or the wild boar from his lair!