My Sonnets [by W. C. Bennett] |
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[Hate none, though the wild cry of blood should ring] |
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 | My Sonnets |  |
[Hate none, though the wild cry of blood should ring]
Hate none, though the wild cry of blood should ringThrough the affrighted land; though the fierce stare
Of eyes that seek their hunted victim glare
Before thee; though, with never-tiring wing,
Hatred should shadow earth, and vengeance cling
To the red murderer's track, yet do thou dare
To preach, to men's deaf ears, of mercy. Care
Thou not, though thy meek, heaven-sprung, words should bring
Around thee yells from those who pity not,
Who hide their thirst to slay beneath the law,
And, shouting “Justice,” onward hound the hot
And bloody chase. Though he who flies before
Need, like to the fell tiger, bars, yet still
Speak thou, and cease not, “Men, ye shall not kill.”
November 19th, 1842.
| My Sonnets | |