Garibaldi Impeached Poem by Menella Bute Smedley

SEPTEMBER 1862

Where shall we try Garibaldi?
Find us some Italian town
Not alive with his renown,
Where the air is not on flame
With the splendour of his name,
Where the pavement of the street
Would not rise to kiss his feet,
Not till such a place is found,
Try him on Italian ground!
What men shall judge Garibaldi?
Men whose honour is not stain'd
When this Captive stands arraign'd,
Through whose souls the trumpet-blast
Of his story never pass'd,
Men of stone, without a tear,
Men who can neither see nor hear;
Find us such, but not till then
Try him by Italian men!