 | [Poems by Cary in] Early and late poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary |  |
THE YOUNG MARTYR.
Still of one among the saints,
Who for Christ in days of old
Suffered blessèd martyrdom,
Is this holy legend told.
Who for Christ in days of old
Suffered blessèd martyrdom,
Is this holy legend told.
Proud upon his royal throne,
In our Lord's first century,
Sat the Roman Emperor,
Clothed in purple majesty.
In our Lord's first century,
Sat the Roman Emperor,
Clothed in purple majesty.
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Naught he lacks of pomp and state,
Armèd guards behind him stand;
And his courtiers, row on row,
Circle him on either hand.
Armèd guards behind him stand;
And his courtiers, row on row,
Circle him on either hand.
Cold and pitiless anear
Frowns the heathen god of stone;
And a single Christian youth
Standeth at his feet alone.
Frowns the heathen god of stone;
And a single Christian youth
Standeth at his feet alone.
Just a boy, a fair-haired child,
In whose eyes you yet can see
All the loving trust he learned,
Praying at his mother's knee.
In whose eyes you yet can see
All the loving trust he learned,
Praying at his mother's knee.
Martyrs true, his brothers died,
Last of five alone he stands;—
Five, who rather bow to death,
Than to idols made with hands.
Last of five alone he stands;—
Five, who rather bow to death,
Than to idols made with hands.
Oft the king has doomed to die
Men and maidens, age and youth;
But his heart for this fair boy
Moveth with a tender ruth.
Men and maidens, age and youth;
But his heart for this fair boy
Moveth with a tender ruth.
So he beckoneth him anear;—
“Thou art brave and proud,” he saith;
“I would spare thee if I might,
But I fear the people's wrath.
“Thou art brave and proud,” he saith;
“I would spare thee if I might,
But I fear the people's wrath.
“I will let this royal ring
Careless drop from out my hand;
Thou shalt stoop and bow the knee,
But to lift it from the sand:
Careless drop from out my hand;
Thou shalt stoop and bow the knee,
But to lift it from the sand:
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“Yet the gazing crowd will think
Thou hast bowed the head to give
Homage to our country's god;—
Thus shalt thou be free, and live.”
Thou hast bowed the head to give
Homage to our country's god;—
Thus shalt thou be free, and live.”
Brave the martyr met his eye,
Proudly standing in his place,
And the light that cometh down
Out of heaven, was in his face.
Proudly standing in his place,
And the light that cometh down
Out of heaven, was in his face.
“He who made me seeth all,”—
So the Christian answered then,—
“Shall I fear the eye of God
Less than thou the eye of men?”
So the Christian answered then,—
“Shall I fear the eye of God
Less than thou the eye of men?”
| [Poems by Cary in] Early and late poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary | |