THY faithful sons, whom Thou in love hast owned, Behold! are strangled, burnt and racked and stoned; Are broken on the wheel; like felons hung; Or, living, into noisome charnels flung. I see them yonder, of their eyes bereft, And there their mangled limbs in twain are cleft. Beneath the wine-press are their bodies drawn, Crushed, drowned, or with harsh saws asunder sawn. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...YOUR WORLD by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE QUARREL by KATHERINE MANSFIELD SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: HILDRUP TUBBS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 38 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE POET'S BRIDAL DAY SONG by ALLAN CUNNINGHAM THE TWELVE-FORTY-FIVE (FOR EDWARD J. WHEELER) by ALFRED JOYCE KILMER THE WASHERS OF THE SHROUD; OCTOBER, 1861 by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL |