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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=341459" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Death Of Huss</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the streets of Constance was heard the shout,<br>``Masters! bring the arch-heretic out!''<br>The stake had been planted, the faggots spread,<br>And the tongues of the torches flickered red.<br>``Huss to the flames!'' they fiercely cried:<br>Then the gate of the Convent opened wide.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Into the sun from the dark he came,<br>His face as fixed as a face in a frame.<br>His arms were pinioned, but you could see,<br>By the smile round his mouth, that his soul was free;<br>And his eye with a strange bright glow was lit,<br>Like a star just before the dawn quencheth it.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To the pyre the crowd a pathway made,<br>And he walked along it with no man's aid;<br>Steadily on to the place he trod,<br>Commending aloud his soul to God.<br>Aloud he prayed, though they mocked his prayer:<br>He was the only thing tranquil there.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But, seeing the faggots, he quickened pace,<br>As we do when we see the loved one's face.<br>``Now, now, let the torch in the resin flare,<br>Till my books and body be ashes and air!<br>But the spirit of both shall return to men,<br>As dew that rises descends again.''</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From the back of the crowd where the women wept,<br>And the children whispered, a peasant stepped.<br>A goodly faggot was on his back,<br>Brittle and sere, from last year's stack;<br>And he placed it carefully where the torch<br>Was sure to lick and the flame to scorch.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">``Why bring you fresh fuel, friend? Here are sticks<br>To burn up a score of heretics.''<br>Answered the peasant, ``Because this year,<br>My hearth will be cold, for is firewood dear;<br>And Heaven be witness I pay my toll,<br>And burn your body to save my soul.''</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Huss gazed at the peasant, he gazed at the pile,<br>Then over his features there stole a smile.<br>``O Sancta Simplicitas! By God's troth,<br>This faggot of yours may save us both,<br>And He who judgeth perchance prefer<br>To the victim the executioner!''</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then unto the stake was he tightly tied,<br>And the torches were lowered and thrust inside.<br>You could hear the twigs crackle and sputter the flesh,<br>Then ``Sancta Simplicitas!'' moaned afresh.<br>'Twas the last men heard of the words he spoke,<br>Ere to Heaven his soul went up with the smoke.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Alfred+Austin">Alfred Austin</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=341459" data-title="The Death Of Huss de Alfred Austin" data-description="In the streets of Constance was heard the shout,
``Masters! bring the arch-heretic out!''
The stake had been planted, the faggots spread,
And the tongues of the torches flickered red.
``Huss to the flames!'' they fiercely cried:
Then the gate of t..."></div>
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