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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=519300" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Beauteous Terrorist</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Soft as the morning's pearly light,<br>Where yet may rise the thunder-cloud,<br>Her gentle face was ever bright<br>With noble thought and purpose proud.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Dreamt ye that those divine blue eyes,<br>That beauty free from pride or blame,<br>Were fashion'd but to terrorize<br>O'er Despot's power of sword and flame?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Beware! Those beauteous lineaments<br>Of girlhood shrine a force sublime,<br>Which moulds to fearful use events,<br>And dares arraign Imperial crime.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A fear was in the peasants' eyes,<br>A palsy smote both tongue and hand;<br>A network of police and spies<br>O'erspread the tyrant-tortured land.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The dungeons swallowed all our best—<br>Who next should perish none could say;<br>A thousand victims of arrest<br>Were torn from us one summer day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The judges, sworn to guard the right,<br>Interpreted the tyrant's bent;<br>Though cleared by witnesses of light,<br>'Twas hard to save the innocent.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Senate, in its ordered state,<br>Might free — its voice inspired no awe<br>Acquittal did not liberate —<br>The Autocrat annulled the law.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The tender, sweet Enthusiast,<br>The bright-eyed maid with hero's soul,<br>Had watched the thickening shadow cast<br>O'er all the land, in death and dole.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Her girlhood's secret studies, late<br>And early, in her princely home;<br>Her converse with the good and great,<br>The lessons taught by Greece and Rome,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Had nerved her heart to action strong ;<br>She joined the few who dared the worst,<br>Resolved to strike the monster Wrong —<br>To wrestle with the Thing accurst!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Pale Freedom's devotees, whose creed<br>Was vengeance, who in silent trust<br>Prepared themselves to bear and bleed,<br>And bravely die — if die they must.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What matter'd, so the Despot's doom<br>And Freedom's advent, nearer drew ?<br>Their chosen path was through the gloom —<br>The perils of their choice they knew.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To give their all, even life, were sweet —<br>Not half, as Ananias gave —<br>So they might see the work complete,<br>Or feel it finished in the grave.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The early rose of womanhood<br>Had scarce illumed her angel face,<br>When 'mongst conspirators she stood —<br>The bravest in the darkest place.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In danger, failure, suffering, she<br>Cheer'd on with her unchanging smile,<br>Still looking forth to victory,<br>As free from doubt as far from guile.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Stern men pursued the work of death —<br>No war-cry raised, no flag, unfurled —<br>They laid the mine whose nitric breath<br>Should blow the tyrant from the world.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Dark warfare! — oh, how pitiless!<br>What else for them? — no right of speech,<br>No right of meeting for redress,<br>No right the rights of man to teach:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">How plead their cause in burning words?<br>How arm'd in just rebellion rise? —<br>Where gleam a million servile swords,<br>Where Drown for prey a million spies.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To counsel, organize, sustain,<br>To plan escape, to lead attack,<br>Her steady hand and luminous brain<br>Were ever Onward — never Back!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Her voice was like a holy bell,<br>Calling to highest sacrifice;<br>When black disaster heaviest fell,<br>She stood all smiles to pay the price!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Baffled surprise and bold escape,<br>Endurance long, at last are o'er;<br>The Monster's jaws insatiate gape,<br>Whose cry for blood is ever “More!”</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The hunters close around her path,<br>Her forfeit life is in their hands;<br>She neither bends before their wrath,<br>Nor braves her captor's hireling bands.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She meets her fate serene and still,<br>Above all earthly hopes and fears;<br>If once her eyes the teardrops fill,<br>Her mother's grief unlocks the tears.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The mockery of trial came,<br>And follow'd swift the words of doom;<br>But ignominy, woe, and shame<br>Were far from her — her dungeon-tomb</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Held spiritual companions; there<br>A light, which others could not see,<br>Shone in her heart, and everywhere —<br>To die was only to be free!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Six days no friendly face came near,<br>No sister's clinging arm, no word<br>From all the loved ones reach'd her ear —<br>Her mother's voice no more was heard.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Six days the weeping mother sought<br>To see her sentenced child in vain;<br>Their eyes ne'er met till she was brought<br>Forth in the daylight — to be slain!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She stood beneath the felon rope —<br>Her beauty felt the hangman's hand;<br>But, steadfast in her life-long hope,<br>She only saw “the promised land!”</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The promised land of Truth and Right —<br>The holy cause of Freedom won!<br>She only saw the far-off Light,<br>And heard the People marching on!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She stood — her cheek rose-lighted still —<br>A moment, calm and iron-willed;<br>Then all of her which Power could kill<br>Was mercilessly crushed and killed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The scaffold had its radiant prey,<br>The Despot's minions breathed secure —<br>The proud and haughty went their way,<br>Spurning the dead so young and pure.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But souls like her's survive the fate<br>Which tyrants in their might decree,<br>And ever live to animate<br>The nations struggling to be free.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Purged of the dross of earth, the fire<br>Of one great spirit's holocaust<br>Will thousands wake to patriot ire —<br>Will raise to life a patriot host!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Sir+Henry+Parkes">Sir Henry Parkes</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=519300" data-title="The Beauteous Terrorist de Sir Henry Parkes" data-description="Soft as the morning's pearly light,
Where yet may rise the thunder-cloud,
Her gentle face was ever bright
With noble thought and purpose proud.

Dreamt ye that those divine blue eyes,
That beauty free from pride or blame,
Were fashion'd but to ter..."></div>
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