O BLINDED readers of the scroll of time, Think ye that freedom yields her hand to crime? Or the fair whiteness of her virginal bud Of heavenly hope, would desecrate with blood? Her eyes are chastened lightnings, and the fire Of her divinely purified desire Burns not in ambush by assassins trod, But on the holiest mountain heights of God! So, ye that fain would meet her fond embrace, Purge the base soul, unmask the treacherous face, Drop bowl or dagger while ye bring her naught But the grand worship of a selfless thought! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DARK-EYED GENTLEMAN by THOMAS HARDY THE BRIDE by DAVID HERBERT LAWRENCE ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 20 by PHILIP SIDNEY A TURKISH LEGEND by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH A SONG OF DAWN AT DUSK by WILLIAM ROSE BENET ILLUSIONS by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |