 | The bird and the bell, with other poems |  |
322
II.
DELIVERANCE.
For never was a darker dungeon builtBy king or pope in the old, wicked time,—
The lurid centuries when the lords of crime
Walked shameless in their robes of chartered guilt;
Churchman and statesman vying which could dye
With reddest ink of blood the historic page.
They played their part. But our illumined age
Brooks not the insult, and flings back the lie,
When slave lords fight against the eternal tides,
When truth is twisted from its straight intent,
And freedom blighted in its loveliest spring.
The mask where hatred smiles and treachery hides
Is torn away at last. The war-clouds bring
Deliverance from our long imprisonment.
| The bird and the bell, with other poems | |