# Oh Zealots So Red
Zither, myrrh, red wine, ev'ry delight
Betray me too, refuse to satisfy,
Assault my hearing, smell, my taste and sight,1
As you, in murmurs, plot to nullify
My battered throne. You crave to do me wrong.
Even village girls with dusty feet
Conspire to mock my conquests with their song,2
Emasculate my triumph as defeat.
The blood of my slain thousands flows to sea
To feed their fish-god deep beneath the waves.3
How fine an ending that—to cease to be,
To wash the dust from off a soul that craves
No more, of God himself be out of reach.
1: In his melancholy, Saul addresses his court. See I Samuel 16:14.
2: See I Samuel 18:7.
3: The Philistines worshipped a fish-god named Dagon. See I Samuel 5:1-5, and Rashi op.cit.
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