She too is hated by the church and state. They'd burn her at the stake if they but dared, Condemned for witchcraft or some other crime. She too shall live an ever-shining glory, In human history, in human hearts-- An even brighter glory than Jeanne d'Arc. The Maid of Orleans routed but the English, And to a worthless king restored a throne, To sway a sceptre o'er a land of serfs. Lead by Elizabeth we'll rout the masters And to the workers of the world restore The earth itself and all its joys and riches. Let all men rally round her blood-red banner Which bears the motto of the revolution: "Death to all masters! Freedom to all slaves!" JEALOUSY As you peruse those heavy, dusty volumes With tense attention hour after hour, Whilst totally indifferent to me,-- To me, who sees in you the book of books, To whom the very cover of this book, Your outward aspect, is more interesting Than the contents of all books ever printed. Is it a wonder I would like to build A mammoth pile of all the books there are And let the raging fire consume them all? MISERS I know of misers meaner than are those Who lay awake at night to guard their treasure, Which is in their possession only dust, A sordid, useless heap of gilded dust That might have given peace and bread to many. The misers whom I mean are fair to see, Delightful to converse with and to kiss; They fascinate us with their wondrous eyes As serpents fascinate the little birds. They draw us closer to them, ever closer, Then suddenly like serpents they coil up And put beyond our grasp their queenly treasures, Alas! in their possession to remain, But useless, vain and perishable things That might have given ecstasy to many. SWINBURNE Algernon Swinburne, is there not in thee Something akin to bells that ring at sea? In their sound so clear There is little cheer, When their knell I hear I recoil with fear. Though thy voice be clear as the day's light, It is pregnant with mystery, death, and night. OUR LADY OF INFINITE MERCY