Page:Poems - volume 1 - EBBrowning (1844).pdf/266

 I plucked up her social fictions, bloody-rooted, though leaf-verdant,— Trod them down with words of shaming,—all the purples and the gold. And the 'landed stakes' and Lordships—all that spirits pure and ardent Are cast out of love and reverence, because chancing not to hold.

"For myself I do not argue," said I, "though I love you, Madam, But for better souls, that nearer to the height of yours have trod— And this age shows, to my thinking, still more infidels to Adam, Than directly, by profession, simple infidels to God.

"Yet, O God" (I said), "O grave" (I said), "O mother's heart and bosom. With whom first and last are equal, saint and corpse and little child!