I thought to do a deed of chivalry,
An act of worth, which haply in her sight
Who was my mistress should recorded be
And of the nations. And, when thus the fight
Faltered and men once bold with faces white
Turned this and that way in excuse to flee,
I only stood, and by the foeman's might
Was overborne and mangled cruelly.
Then crawled I to her feet, in whose dear cause
I made this venture, and ``Behold,'' I said,
``How I am wounded for thee in these wars.''
But she, ``Poor cripple, wouldst thou I should wed
A limbless trunk?'' and laughing turned from me.
Yet was she fair, and her name ``Liberty.''
Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/her-name-liberty/
