LUCIFER

Voltaire, our England's lover, man divine

Beyond all Gods that ever fear adored

By right and might, by sceptre and by sword,

By godlike love of sunlike truth, made thine

Through godlike hate of falsehood's marshlight shine

And all the fume of creeds and deeds abhorred

Whose light was darkness, till the dawn-star soared,

Truth, reason, mercy, justice, keep thy shrine

Sacred in memory's temple, seeing that none

Of all souls born to strive before the sun

Loved ever good or hated evil more.

The snake that felt thy heel upon her head,

Night's first-born, writhes as though she were not dead,

But strikes not, stings not, slays not as before.