So, Freedom, thy great quarrel may we serve, With truest zeal that, sensitive of blame, Ever thy holy banner would preserve As pure as woman's love or knightly fame. And though detraction's flood we proudly breast, Or, weakening, sink in that unfathom'd sea, Ever we'll keep aloft our banner, lest Even the black spray soil its purity. My life be branded and my name be flung To infamy; -- beloved, I will wear Thy beauty on my shield, till even the tongue Of falsehood echo truth, and own thee fair. |