WHEN Socrates, he of the shabby robe,
Had earned from Athens the unjust decree
That sentenced him to d**h, because his probe
Had touched its self love, Pity said, "Go free,
Thy prison gates to-night unbarred shall be;
Walk forth, and in some happier clime thy fame
Will blossom yet to immortality,
Nor can detraction visit thee with blame."
"Nay , friends, have I not told you that there came
Unto mine inmost soul a potent voice
That bade me put all false conceit to shame
And place the common welfare first; no choice
Is left. For me the hemlock cup to take
Is better far than Athens' laws to break."