University of Virginia Library

GOD'S MARTYRS

The glorious roll of martyr names,
The Angels of our earth,—
Our hearts beat high when praise proclaims
That constellated Worth:

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But in the shade of Time there lies
A tomb Love stoopeth o'er,
To read—“The Scorn'd of Histories.
“The nameless Martyr Poor.”
The Poor, the unthank'd labour-worn,
Who all unnoticed died,—
The Toilers trampled down by Scorn
Upon the world's wayside!
Tell out the starry names that gem
God's heaven! The sanded shore
Is countless: who shall number them—
The silent-suffering Poor?
The world shall never know their names,
Nor Fame recount their deeds;
They had no high heroic aims,
Nor strain'd at lofty meeds:
They were but men of common mould,
Yet royal crowns they wore:
What though their trials be untold?
Goa's Martyrs are the Poor.
They toil'd, they died,—Oblivion trod
Above the dust of Slaves:
Yet reach'd they hero-souls to God
From out the lowliest graves.

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And yet a glorious shrine we'll raise
Their buried memories o'er,
Where reverent ages long shall praise
The scarce-remember'd Poor.