Unto like Story Trouble has enticed me
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





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