Michael Villiers, Idealist And Other Poems. By E. H. Hickey |
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 | Michael Villiers, Idealist |  |
I
A folk that called itself a Christian folk
Still kept the blood-lust of its heathendom,
Men slaying men to make fair mirth for Rome;
And one, aflame with anger and pity, spoke
His heart out in the eloquent speech that broke
Against the mob's hard will, and fell therefrom
Like a strong wave, whose heart beneath its foam
Beating in vain, sobs back from some hard rock.
Still kept the blood-lust of its heathendom,
Men slaying men to make fair mirth for Rome;
And one, aflame with anger and pity, spoke
His heart out in the eloquent speech that broke
Against the mob's hard will, and fell therefrom
Like a strong wave, whose heart beneath its foam
Beating in vain, sobs back from some hard rock.
Another took his life within his hand,
Saying, ‘No longer shall this evil be.’
They smote him that he died upon the sand,
Having fulfilled love's whole supreme command.
But in his death love gained its victory,
For never again did Rome such combat see.
Saying, ‘No longer shall this evil be.’
They smote him that he died upon the sand,
Having fulfilled love's whole supreme command.
But in his death love gained its victory,
For never again did Rome such combat see.
| Michael Villiers, Idealist | |