Viii

Compel them to be free! A true word there Thou minted’st, Rousseau--half the human race Still unaspiring to that crowning grace, Still disinclined the easy yoke to wear. Oh, that at length our people would but dare To look their cancer fiercely in the face, Consenting on the foul and rotting place The short sharp anguish of the knife to bear. For there are powers upon us that still sap Our liberty and drain our manhood dry, Which if we clear not speedily, mayhap Our twilight follows and the end is nigh; Or else there rise a Strong One who will clap The Teuton iron on us, and we die.

HESEPE, 7th July