The Rebel
By Charles Baudelaire
A furious Angel plunged from the sky like a hawk,
Gripped the sinner with rough hands by the hair,
And shaking him, shouted, "You shall obey, do you hear?
I am your Guardian Angel. No back talk!
Learn to love (for you must, and no grimaces!)
The poor, the spiteful, the deformed, the dumb;
For you must spread for Jesus when he comes
A rich carpet of Charity where he passes.
That is Love! Before your heart expire,
Let the glory of God set it afire;
That is the true Delight that cannot rot!"
Then the Angel, cruel as he was kind,
With giant hands twisted him till he whined;
But the damned soul still answered, "I will not!"
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