I do this one as a self-willed duty,
Not as paid to,
Or at all made to,
But because the doing is dear."
Ah, then I hail you brother and friend!
Liberty's knight divine.
What you have done would have been my doing,
Yea, most verily,
Well, and thoroughly,
Had but your courage been mine!
"Oh I care not for Liberty's mould,
Liberty charms not me;
What's Freedom but an idler's vision,
Vain, pernicious,
Often vicious,
Of things that cannot be!
"Memory it is that brings me to this -
Of a daughter--my one sweet own.
She grew a famous carver's model,
One of the fairest
And of the rarest:-
She sat for the figure as shown.
"But alas, she died in this distant place
Before I was warned to betake
Myself to her side! . . . And in love of my darling,
In love of the fame of her,
And the good name of her,
I do this for her sake."
Answer I gave not. Of that form
The carver was I at his side;
His child, my model, held so saintly,
Grand in feature,
Gross in nature,
In the dens of vice had died.
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