Sonnets to Elizabeth Barrett Browning - Part III
Ay , most I love thee when thy starry song
Stoops to the plague-spot that we dare not name,
And bares with burning breath the envenomed wrong —
Our country's dark inheritance of shame.
When our blaspheming synods look thereon,
Stifling God's law and Nature's noble ires
With the cold ashes of dead council-fires,
That Gorgon terror chills them into stone.
Yet while they cringe and palter, thy true heart,
Serene in love's own light and woman's ruth,
Loyal to God and to God's living truth,
Hath uttered words whose fulgent rays shall dart
Like sunbeams through our land's Tartarean gloom,
Till freedom's holy law its Stygian depths illume.
Stoops to the plague-spot that we dare not name,
And bares with burning breath the envenomed wrong —
Our country's dark inheritance of shame.
When our blaspheming synods look thereon,
Stifling God's law and Nature's noble ires
With the cold ashes of dead council-fires,
That Gorgon terror chills them into stone.
Yet while they cringe and palter, thy true heart,
Serene in love's own light and woman's ruth,
Loyal to God and to God's living truth,
Hath uttered words whose fulgent rays shall dart
Like sunbeams through our land's Tartarean gloom,
Till freedom's holy law its Stygian depths illume.
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