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Holy of holies

Confessions of an anarchist [by J. E. Barlas]

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 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
 IV. 
 V. 
 VI. 
 VII. 
 VIII. 
 IX. 
 X. 
 XI. 
 XII. 
 XIII. 
 XIV. 
 XV. 
 XVI. 
 XVII. 
 XVIII. 
 XIX. 
 XX. 
 XXI. 
 XXII. 
 XXIII. 
 XXIV. 
 XXV. 
 XXVI. 
 XXVII. 
 XXVIII. 
 XXIX. 
 XXX. 
 XXXI. 
 XXXII. 
XXXII.
 XXXIII. 
 XXXIV. 
 XXXV. 
 XXXVI. 
 XXXVII. 
 XXXVIII. 
 XXXIX. 
 XL. 
 XLI. 
 XLII. 
 XLIII. 


36

XXXII.

[Will they not poison thee against me now?]

Will they not poison thee against me now?
Will they not tell my faults and my disgrace?
Will they not cloud with blushes thy proud face
For having called me friend? will they not bow
With holy anguish thine imperious brow,
Which as a god I see in every place,
My dream, my paradise, my resting-space?
When they shall do all this be faithful, thou,
Queen, for I am thy subject, not thy slave,
Queen, for I am not held by bonds and laws,
Nor know a lover's skill to fawn and sigh,
Queen, for I am a freeman to the grave,
Queen, for I too am proud and with some cause,
For there is that in me which shall not die.
March 12th, 1886.