OT that I love thy children, whose dull
See nothing save their own unlovely woe,
Whose minds know nothing, nothing care to know,—But that the roar of thy Democracies,
Thy reigns of Terror, thy great Anarchies,
Mirror my wildest passions like the sea,—And give my rage a brother——!
Liberty!
For this sake only do thy dissonant
Delight my discreet soul, else might all
By bloody knout or treacherous cannonades Rob nations of their rights
And I remain unmoved—and yet, and yet,
These Christs that die upon the barricades,
God knows it I am with them, in some things.
