Broken Pride

'Tis said that all sins spring
out from the loins of pride.
An aversion to a lowly deed
that may beneath her majesty abide.
The suffering of another's soul
should not her worry be.
For what's it to her, the lofty one,
if she need look down to see?
Misery and pain await,
upon Hell's grinding wheel,
the heart that's blind to higher love,
who, compassion cannot feel.
'Lest darkness be where ye will abide,
Commit ye not, the first sin of pride.