Yet what were Love if man remains unfree, 
   And woman's sunshine sordid merchandise: 
If children's Hope is blasted ere they see 
   Its shoots of youth from out the branchlets rise: 
   If thought is chained, and gagged is Speech, and Lies 
Enthroned as Law befoul posterity, 
   And haggard Sin's ubiquitous disguise 
Insults the face of God where'er men be? 

Ay, what were Love, my love, did we not love 
   Our stricken brothers so, as to resign 
   For Its own sake, the foison of Its dower: 
That, so, we two may help them mount above 
   These layers of charnel air in which they pine, 
   To seek with us the Presence and the Power?