Unto like Story — Trouble has enticed me –
How Kinsmen fell –
Brothers and Sister — who preferred the Glory –
And their young will
Bent to the Scaffold, or in Dungeons — chanted –
Till God’s full time –
When they let go the ignominy — smiling –
And Shame went still –
Unto guessed Crests, my moaning fancy, leads me,
Worn fair
By Heads rejected — in the lower country –
Of honors there –
Such spirit makes her perpetual mention,
That I — grown bold –
Step martial — at my Crucifixion –
As Trumpets — rolled –
Feet, small as mine — have marched in Revolution
Firm to the Drum –
Hands — not so stout — hoisted them — in witness –
When Speech went numb –
Let me not shame their sublime deportments –
Drilled bright –
Beckoning — Etruscan invitation –
Toward Light –
