Page:The poems of Emma Lazarus volume 1.djvu/176

162 So royally endured, no human thrill Awoke, in hearts drunk with the lust to kill? Not brutes ! No tiger of the wilderness, No jackal of the jungle, bears such brand As man’s black heart, who shrinks not to confess The desperate deed of his deliberate hand. Our kind, our kin, have done this thing. We stand Bowed earthward, red with shame, to see such wrong Prorogue Love s cause and Truth’s God knows how long!

&quot; not have,&quot; he said, &quot;Tears, nor the black pall, nor the wormy grave, Grief s hideous panoply I would not have Round me when I am dead. &quot; Music and flowers and light, And choric dances to guitar and flute, Be these around me when my lips are mute, Mine eyes are sealed from sight. &quot; So let me lie one day, One long, eternal day, in sunshine bathed, In cerements of silken tissue swathed, Smothered neath flowers of May.