p. 7 | On the Massacre in Piedmont by John Milton

Pacific Press Publishing Association · Mountain View, California · Oct 8, 1912

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 39, No. 39.

On the Massacre in Piedmont

By John Milton

(The Sonnet to the Waldenses)

Avenge, O Lord, Thy slaughtered saints, whose bones Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold; Even them who kept Thy truth so pure of old, When all our fathers worshiped stocks and stones, Forget not; in Thy book record their groans Who were Thy sheep, and in their ancient fold Slain by the bloody Piedmontese, that rolled Mother with infant down the rocks. Their moans The vales redoubled to the hills, and they To heaven. Their martyred blood and ashes sow O'er all the Italian fields, where still doth sway The triple tyrant; that from these may grow A hundredfold, who, having learned Thy way, Early may fly the Babylonian wo. — John Milton.