Classic Poem

I know I shall fade like a star on some dark night,
No star will know my grave;
But my wrath shall still smoke on like the crater's mouth
When the flame has died away,
And live among you when the tempest howls
And waves on the ocean rage.
Ah! Would that your great sorrow might be treasured
In the bosom of the world,
To moist the plains of heav'n and fields of earth,
The grasses and the stars;
To live in them, inspirit them, grow old
And young with them, to fade and flower again,
And nameless, formless, homeless, stand till the end
A witness of your shame;
And with mute cry to Heaven and the grave
Gainsay that the world be saved.

Then, when false justice sheds its trustless light
At last upon your slain,
And over your murderers a banner of lies
Stained in your blood waves flauntingly at heav'n,
And the forged seal of God impressed thereon
Assaults the radiant sun;
When proud-stepped dance and shout of treacherous feast
Shake up your martyred bones—
Then, tremulous, the azure firmament
Will darken for your grief,
The sun be scarlet as your guiltless blood,
With the brand of Cain on the forehead of the earth,
And badge of defeat for the broken arm of God;
Thus star to trembling star: “What tragedy!
What cruel treachery!”
And the God of vengeance wounded to the heart,
Will rise with a shout—go forth with His great sword.