Explore "The Guardian of the Red Disk" by Emma Lazarus on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Spoken by a Citizen of Malta -- 1300.
A curious title held in high repute, / One among many honors, thickly strewn / On my lord Bishop's head, his grace of Malta. / Nobly he bears them all, -- with tact, skill, zeal, / Fulfills each special office, vast or slight, / Nor slurs the least minutia, -- therewithal / Wears such a stately aspect of command, / Broad-checked, broad-chested, reverend, sanctified, / Haloed with white about the tonsure's rim, / With dropped lids o'er the piercing Spanish eyes / (Lynx-keen, I warrant, to spy out heresy); / Tall, massive form, o'ertowering all in presence, / Or ere they kneel to kiss the large white hand. / His looks sustain his deeds, -- the perfect prelate, / Whose void chair shall be taken, but not filled. / You know not, who are foreign to the isle, / Haply, what this Red Disk may be, he guards. / 'T is the bright blotch, big as the Royal seal, / Branded beneath the beard of every Jew. / These vermin so infest the isle, so slide / Into all byways, highways that may lead / Direct or roundabout to wealth or power, / Some plain, plump mark was needed, to protect / From the degrading contact Christian folk.