John Frederick Freeman

“ The mist climbed slowly, putting out the stars,
And the earth trembled when the stars were gone;
And moving strangely everywhere upon
The trembling earth, thickened the watery mist.
And for a time the holy things are veiled.
England's wise thoughts are swords; her quiet hours
Are trodden underfoot like wayside flowers,
And every English heart is England's wholly.
In starless night
A serious passion streams the heaven with light.
A common beating is in the air—
The heart of England throbbing everywhere. ”

“ The spirit's murdered though the body survives,
Except the cause for which a people strives
Burn with no covetous, foul heart;
Fights she against herself who infamously draws
The sword against man's secret spiritual laws. ”