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Richard Chenevix Trench (Ричард Ченевикс Тренч) Sonnet (You say we love not freedom, honoured friend) You say we love not freedom, honoured friend; Yea, doubtless, we can lend to scheme like yours Small love. Yet not for this--that it assures Too much to man--this would not me offend: But for I know that all such schemes will end With leaving him too little,--will deprive Of that free energy by which we live: For of such plots the final act attend-- See them who loathed the very name of king, Emulous in slavery, bow their souls before The new-coined title of some meaner thing Than ever crown of king or emperor wore; For such in God’s and Nature’s righteousness, The weakness which avenges all excess. Richard Chenevix Trench's other poems:
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