The Book of Martyrs

From ImmortalPoetry
Jump to navigationJump to search
XVIII.THE BOOK OF MARTYRS.

Read, sweet, how others strove,
Till we are stouter ;
What they renounced,
Till we are less afraid ;
How many times they bore
The faithful witness,
Till we are helped,
As if a kingdom cared !

Read then of faith
That shone above the fagot ;
Clear strains of hymn
The river could not drown ;
Brave names of men
And celestial women,
Passed out of record
Into renown !

 
from Poems by Emily Dickinson (1890)


Add your comment
ImmortalPoetry welcomes all comments. If you do not want to be anonymous, register or log in. It is free.