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74
ON A PORTRAIT OF CROMWELL.
“Paint me as I am,” said Cromwell,
Rough with age and gashed with wars;
“Show my visage as you find it,—
Less than truth my soul abhors.”
Rough with age and gashed with wars;
“Show my visage as you find it,—
Less than truth my soul abhors.”
This was he whose mustering phalanx
Swept the foe at Marston Moor;
This was he whose arm uplifted
From the dust the fainting poor.
Swept the foe at Marston Moor;
This was he whose arm uplifted
From the dust the fainting poor.
God had made his face uncomely,—
“Paint me as I am,” he said;
So he lives upon the canvas
Whom they chronicled as dead!
“Paint me as I am,” he said;
So he lives upon the canvas
Whom they chronicled as dead!
Simple justice he requested
At the artist's glowing hands,
“Simple justice!” from his ashes
Cries a voice that still commands.
At the artist's glowing hands,
“Simple justice!” from his ashes
Cries a voice that still commands.
75
And, behold! the page of History,
Centuries dark with Cromwell's name,
Shines to-day with burning lustre
From the light of Cromwell's fame!
Centuries dark with Cromwell's name,
Shines to-day with burning lustre
From the light of Cromwell's fame!
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