EARTH’S MARTYRS.

        Many have hymned Thy Martyrs, Earth, of old,
        Who fell on red flames, as on flowers cold;
        But we, Thy poets, in a different fire,
        And at an inward worser flame expire;
        For that which did their bodies ashes make
        Our souls consumes; we shrivel at that stake.
        We burn, yet live; they in a moment died;
        We are Thy real Martyrs, Thy true pride.

                                                           STEPHEN PHILLIPS.