To One who Accused Me of Political Apostasy

When reek of massacre filled the eastern skies,
Who among singers sang for Man but me?
These lute-strings were a scourge to tyranny
When you turned listless from those anguished cries.
A hundred times, when all the worldly-wise
Kept comfortable silence, I spoke free.
And would you now begrudge me liberty
To use my own brain, see with my own eyes?
When you hung rearward, I was in the van,
Among the whizzing arrows; and to-day,
Because in one thing I reshape my creed,
You cry " Apostate! " — Liberalism indeed!
Give me the Liberalism that guards for Man
His right to think his thought and say his say.
Rate this poem: 


No reviews yet.