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Read the poem: “The Book of Martyrs”

by Emily Dickinson

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American Literature – American Poetry – Emily Dickinson
< < < The bone that has no marrow
The brain > > >

The Book of Martyrs

Read, sweet, how others strove,

Till we are stouter;

What they renounced,

Till we are less afraid;

How many times they bore

The faithful witness,

Till we are helped,

As if a kingdom cared!

Read then of faith

That shone above the fagot;

Clear strains of hymn

The river could not drown;

Brave names of men

And celestial women,

Passed out of record

Into renown!


< < < The bone that has no marrow
The brain > > >

American Literature – American Poetry – Emily Dickinson

Copyright holders –  Public Domain

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