When Alpine Vales threw forth a suppliant cry,
The Majesty of England interposed
And the sword stopped; the bleeding wounds were closed;
And Faith preserved her ancient purity.
How little boots that precedent of good,
Scorned or forgotten, Thou canst testify,
For England's shame, O Sister Realm! from wood,
Mountain, and moor, and crowded street, where lie
The headless martyrs of the Covenant,
Slain by Compatriot-protestants that draw
From councils senseless as intolerant
Their warrant. Bodies fall by wild sword-law;
But who would force the Soul, tilts with a straw
Against a Champion cased in adamant.
Ecclesiastical Sonnets - Part Iii. - Vii - Persecution Of The Scottish Covenanters
William Wordsworth
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Poem topics: faith, sister, soul, wild, good, street, ancient, force, majesty, mountain, purity, shame, sword, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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