 | Imaginary Sonnets |  |
34
COLUMBUS TO HIS FETTERS.
(1502.)
Ye solemn fetters, that I love to keep,
An iron proof of man's injustice here,
Until such day, as, laid within my bier,
Ye shall surround me in my final sleep:
An iron proof of man's injustice here,
Until such day, as, laid within my bier,
Ye shall surround me in my final sleep:
Each link is the reward they made me reap
For some hard link of thought, for some slow year
Of patient struggle; what they made me wear
For a new world across the appalling deep.
For some hard link of thought, for some slow year
Of patient struggle; what they made me wear
For a new world across the appalling deep.
I feel a pang of pleasure at your sight,
A thrill of that excruciating joy
Which He once felt, beneath the Roman rod,
A thrill of that excruciating joy
Which He once felt, beneath the Roman rod,
And keep you now to show how kings requite,
To teach success what woes are its alloy,
And chain me through eternity to God.
To teach success what woes are its alloy,
And chain me through eternity to God.
| Imaginary Sonnets | |