SONNETS
UPON THE PUNISHMENT OF DEATH
XIII. CONCLUSION
SONNETS
UPON THE PUNISHMENT OF DEATH
YES, though He well may tremble at the sound Of his own voice, who from the judgment-seat Sends the pale Convict to his last retreat In death; though Listeners shudder all around, They know the dread requital’s source profound; Nor is, they feel, its wisdom obsolete– (Would that it were!) the sacrifice unmeet For Christian Faith. But hopeful signs abound; The social rights of man breathe purer air, Religion deepens her preventive care; 10 Then, moved by needless fear of past abuse, Strike not from Law’s firm hand that awful rod, But leave it thence to drop for lack of use: Oh, speed the blessed hour, Almighty God!