WHEN Alpine Vales threw forth a suppliant cry, The Majesty of England interposed And the sword stopped; the bleeding wounds were closed; And Faith preserved her ancient purity. How little boots that precedent of good, Scorned or forgotten, Thou canst testify, For England's shame, O Sister Realm! from wood, Mountain, and moor, and crowded street, where lie The headless martyrs of the Covenant, Slain by Compatriot-protestants that draw From councils senseless as intolerant Their warrant. Bodies fall by wild sword-law; But who would force the Soul, tilts with a straw Against a Champion cased in adamant. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DREAMS OLD AND NASCENT: NASCENT by DAVID HERBERT LAWRENCE THE EVE OF BUNKER HILL [JUNE 16, 1775] by CLINTON SCOLLARD SUMMER SUN by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON RARE DESTINY by FLORA LOUISE BAILEY SHE BEGINING TO STUDY PHISICK ... FALLS INTO A DEGRESSION ON ANATOMY by JANE BARKER LURIA; A TRAGEDY by ROBERT BROWNING THE CONTRAST BETWEEN TWO LORDS AT THEIR EXECUTION by JOHN BYROM |