Your patience, Sirs. The Devil took me up

Your patience, Sirs. The Devil took me up
To the burned mountain over Sicily
(Fit place for me) and thence I saw my Earth —
(Not all Earth's splendour, 'twas beyond my need — )
And that one spot I love — all Earth to me,
And her I love, my Heaven. What said I?
My love was safe from all the powers of Hell —
For you — e'en you — acquit her of my guilt —
But Sula, nestling by our sail-specked sea,
My city, child of mine, my heart, my home —
Mine and my pride — evil might visit there!
It was for Sula and her naked port,
Prey to the galleys of the Algerine,
Our city Sula, that I drove my price —
For love of Sula and for love of her.
The twain were woven — gold on sackcloth — twined
Past any sundering till God shall judge
The evil and the good.
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