Conscience
By William Saphier
This evening more than ever
my ancient, despised Hebrew priest,
warped by the hot Arabian sun,
inflicted his heart-scorching sermon;
burnishing with impatient feet
a whisper of duty in my heart,
commanding, beseeching,
that I offer on his altar.
And a strong white-hot wind blew
my brothers’ woes into my viens.
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