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Sonnet VIII

Sonnet VIII
 
As Daniel, bird—alone, in that far land,
Kneeling in fervent prayer, with heart—sick eyes
Turned thro’ the casement toward the westering skies;
Or as untamed Elijah, that red brand
Among the starry prophets; or that band
And company of Faithful sanctities
Who in all times, when persecutions rise,
Cherish forgotten creeds with fostering hand:
Such do ye seem to me, light—hearted crew,
O turned to friendly arts with all your will,
That keep a little chapel sacred still,
One rood of Holy—land in this bleak earth
Sequestered still (our homage surely due!)
To the twin Gods of mirthful wine and mirth.
Other works by Robert Louis Stevenson...



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