Thou pleadest well, yet some will say, and weep To say it: 'See, the fond historian stands Chafing the blood from Mary's snowy hands In vain, for still their ancient stains they keep'; I join them not - I, too, am fain to think That thou hast wrought a credible disproof Of that old verdict. Shall I hold aloof, And shut my heart up from the veriest blink Of charitable sunshine, that descends On this still-closing, still re-opening bud Of unproved innocence? O Holyrood! Speak, for thou knowest! Tell the means, the ends Of that dark conclave! All good spirits move The lost truth to the light; it is a work of love! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CLANCY OF THE MOUNTED POLICE by ROBERT WILLIAM SERVICE ON KEATS, WHO DESIRED THAT ON HIS TOMB SHOULD BE INSCRIBED: by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY DESCRIBES THE PLACE WHERE CYNTHIA IS SPORTING HERSELF by PHILIP AYRES THE SUNLIT VALE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |