Title: Poems
Description: From the book:Not that I love thy children, whose dull eyesSee nothing save their own unlovely woe,Whose minds know nothing, nothing care to know, -But that the roar of thy Democracies,Thy reigns of Terror, thy great Anarchies,Mirror my wildest passions like the seaAnd give my rage a brother -!  Liberty!For this sake only do thy dissonant criesDelight my discreet soul, else might all kingsBy bloody knout or treacherous cannonadesRob nations of their rights inviolateAnd I remain unmoved - and yet, and yet,These Christs that die upon the barricades,God knows it I am with them, in some things.
Subjects: Pre-Raphaelitism, Literature, Art, Poetry, History and criticism, Classic Literature, Fiction, Poetry (poetic works by one author), Pr5814 1997, 821/.8, English poetry, Irish authors
People: Temple Scott (1864-1939)