(1837-1913)
A Song of Creation
Canto II , XI
Give me a lover ever bold,
A lover clean, keen, sword in hand,
Like to those white-plumed knights of old
Whose loves held honor in the land;
Those men with hot blood in their veins
And hot, swift, iron hand to kill---
Those women loving well the chains
That bound them fast against their will;
Yet loved and lived---are living still.
Sage and Rosemary