(From Rizal’s Dedication)
by Luis G. Dato
A time was there when in the cruel throes
Of unborn Right a nation’s blood was shed.
Times of travail when, threatening and dread.
The gallows shouted “Death!” at once to those
Who from a trodden native clergy rose.
Forever by some higher vision led,
Of mundane malediction unafraid.
They dared the menace of unnumbered foes.
Such were you all, you found the crimson aisles
Of Death, and down the lanes of shadow trod.
With coolness passed the shining Spanish files,
Fast tears and torture, onward to your God.
In peace repose, for he whose word reviles
Your dear remembrance stains his hands with blood!
