The pages of thy book I read, And as I closed each one, My heart, responding, ever said, "Servant of God! well done!" Well done! Thy words are great and bold; At times they seem to me, Like Luther's, in the days of old, Half-battles for the free. Go on, until this land revokes The old and chartered Lie, The feudal curse, whose whips and yokes Insult humanity. A voice is ever at thy side Speaking in tones of might, Like the prophetic voice, that cried To John in Patmos, "Write!" Write! and tell out this bloody tale; Record this dire eclipse, This Day of Wrath, this Endless Wail, This dread Apocalypse! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A BALLADE OF SUICIDE by GILBERT KEITH CHESTERTON DICKENS IN CAMP by FRANCIS BRET HARTE THE MEMORY OF THE HEART by DANIEL WEBSTER THE POET: A RHAPSODY by MARK AKENSIDE AIR AN' LIGHT by WILLIAM BARNES SPRING'S IMMORTALITY by H. T. MACKENZIE BELL TO ROBERT BURNS; AN EPISTLE ON INSTINCT by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES |