The sweets of liberty and equal laws;
But martyrs struggle for a brighter prize,
And win it with more pain. Their blood is shed
In confirmation of the noblest claim,--
Our claim to feed upon immortal truth,
To walk with God, to be divinely free,
To soar and to anticipate the skies.--
Yet few remember them! They lived unknown,
Till persecution dragged them into fame,
And chased them up to Heaven. Their ashes flew--
No marble tells us whither. With their names
No bard embalms and sanctifies his song;
And History, so warm on meaner themes,
Is cold on this. She execrates indeed
The tyranny that doom'd them to the fire,
But gives the glorious sufferers little praise.

COWPER.


[Notes:_William Cowper_ (born 1731, died 1800), the author of 'The
Task,' 'Progress of Error,' 'Truth,' and many other poems; all marked by
the same pure thought and chaste language.

This poem is written in what is called "blank verse," i.e., verse in
which the lines do not rhyme, the rhythm depending on the measure of the
verse.


_To the sweet lyre_ = To the poet, whose lyre (or poetry) is to keep